


Child's Play: Wayward Son

by Kyer



Series: Child's Play [1]
Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), The Flash (Comic)
Genre: Absolutely NO Non-Canon Characters of importance, Emotional Abuse, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery, Mystery Character(s), Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Wally West Centric story, lots of Angst & Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 128,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyer/pseuds/Kyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> <br/>Originally posted in 2009 at FFN, but now deleted there.  Posting here with corrections and lots of additions.</p>
<p>For one year the Flash was thought dead.<br/>Twelve months during which The Justice League fell apart; nearly 365 days during which Wally West went through hell at the hands of Lex Luthor.  Now Flash has escaped..but the world's gone to hell.  He's a wanted criminal while Luthor is beloved and running for President.<br/>And there's this weird voice in his head that won't go away.</p>
<p>What's real and what's false?  What happened during The Central City Incident?<br/>The Fastest Man Alive has to find the answers asap.</p>
<p>If he survives that long.<br/>.<br/>.<br/>.<br/><em>The Wayward Son</em><br/><em>Is ashamed and undone.</em><br/><em>He's lost and confused;</em><br/><em>Left with nowhere to run.</em><br/><em>The path that he knew</em><br/><em>Has crumbled to dust.</em><br/><em>The weapon that fell him?</em><br/><em>Enslavement to Lust.</em><br/>~Kyer</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your Mine Now

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: This story's original chapters were typed up and archived elsewhere around...mid 2010 sometime. I'd tell you for sure when I'd posted the last chapter, but I had to panic-delete it from it's home a few days back when there was a scare at Fanfiction.net regarding accounts getting banned for such violations like songfic and violence/sexuality content that went beyond PG-13. As a result, I lost a couple of unfinished stories that I loved and am in a foul mood over black/white rules that still manage to give vague boundaries over exactly what is black and what is white.  
> .............
> 
> I've taken bits of the Flash from the 1987 through 2008 series and the Justice League and Justice League Unlimited shows. The other League characters are purely from the animated series.
> 
> I'm not going to apologize for the fact that I loathe DC's decision to drop Wally in favor of only Barry Allen. Barry I consider to be 'okay', but not enough 'okay' to buy his books. Wally I'd happily spend every extra penny I had on his stuff. He's my Flash even if I met Barry first courtesy of Super Friends and then Jay through his comic book origin story via an anthology on comic book characters.
> 
> I've been trying since 2009 to love Barry like I adore Wally. It just isn't happening.
> 
> Wally has been and remains the only speedster that I actually love and care about.
> 
> As for Dan Didio...the man loves to troll the fans. What other businessman trolls his profit base just to make them angry? To me, it's not Didio in charge of DC....it's Dan who?
> 
> This story is a SONGS fic. Songs strongly effect the plot and are part of the plot. I've tried to be diligent in properly giving credit for each song, because none of them are mine any more than DC's creations are. Same with the quotes. This fanfiction (as all my stories) are for my own pleasure and hopefully the pleasure of others. I derive no profit from my work other than the satisfaction to be had from thinking about my favorite things.
> 
> If someone wants their lyrics or quote removed then please pm or review stating so. I love musicians and creators and have no wish to offend them. Nor would I play the whole songs even if allowed to do so here. I use the whole lyrics since these are readily out already on several sites. Again, if that offends, let me know and I'll take it out of the chapters, truncate it to a line or two, or just leave the name and creator...whatever is okay with the owners.
> 
> Let me say this though....many of the CD's I have were purchased because a fanfic or a fan video on the Net reminded me of or made me aware of the material and I loved it so much I went out and got the music CD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> Story dedication and a A SPECIAL THANK YOU TO Amethyst Asheryn: who has pretty darned faithfully taken an interest in not only this, but all of my stories...sending me critics, spotting typos, and generally being supportive. In other words...made me feel spoiled!
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> (Foreword updated 9/4/2009)
> 
> To give some perspective: When I started this story it was a one shot from a person whose sole contact with The Flash was Timm's animated series JLU (and not having seen even all the episodes with Wally in them yet.) I'd read most of the Wikipedia section for 'Wally West' and The Flash part of the JLU Wiki. Also tons of fanfiction from this site as well as what I could find via Google Search.
> 
> It wasn't until well after I'd already decided on a plot that I heard that there was going to be a new Flash comics series let alone that the old one had died.
> 
> (Edit March 2012: Nor did I know when writing this story that the updated Flash would be kicking Wally and the rest of the Flash Family to the side and then revamped yet again in The DC New 52 Universe where Wally, his family, nigh all his friends, and even Barry's marriage to Iris West were declared to be no longer valid. God how I hate the New 52 even if Manupal is a great artist and Barry a decent character. I've gone from a raving, late 2008 pro-DC fan to a disenfranchised, jaded one all because Dan Didio, Jim Lee, and The DC Powers That Be don't want Wally in their universe anymore...like he had not been a A-lister for 20 years. My personal opinion is that this is their revenge for Levitz's DC having 'killed' Barry back in 1985 and bringing in Wally in 1987. I know what they say they want to use Wally if they can only find a way...but the facts deny their Pilate's Hand Washing. After all, they had no qualms about tweaking Barry's history to suit Didio's DC. Or Jay's. Or Bart's. Or Superman's, or...etc, etc.)
> 
> Warnings for T-rated Noncon, swearing, cruelty, seemingly ooc behavior in canon characters, major pathos/angst, character bashing, yada yada, truly twisted plot machinations from the get go. Pain, sweat, tears, gnashing of teeth! Here there be Dragons! (No, not literally unless you count J'onn J'onzz's battling form.)
> 
> M-rated warning for chapter 13 Violations last half . It is well marked off with additional warnings, though, so you can avoid that section of it.
> 
> No graphic slasher gore or paint-by-the-numbers sex.
> 
> There will be quite a few snatches of Humor in the story as you can't have a humorless Wally West, but it is mostly 'oh man' type wisecracking and gallows humor. I'm of the theory that humor is Wally's armor just as surely as isolationism is Bruce Wayne's.
> 
> For those of you who actually care about such matters as Romance...this will be following canon where canon is unshakable. However, I can guarantee you there will be T-rated slash as well. If you can't stomach that even in a work of fiction...well, what can I say? The slash parts in here are necessary to this plot line. I didn't put them in on a whim. Frankly, I've never been particularly fond of romance between main characters as it gets sticky in more ways than one. People have their preferences and often can't accept something the least different from that. As for myself, I don't give a damn who Wally is paired with or if he doesn't get paired at all; lust or love, commitment or noncon. It's Wally's spirit that I love and how he affects and is affected by those around him. That said, my personal preferences if there be romance is either slashing Wally with Batman or Superman; hetero with Linda Parks. But I'm open. Hell, put him in a story with Darkseid or Cheetah and I'll read it if I find it.
> 
> As this was originally a one shot character piece for Lex Luthor that grew to be a long plot, the first chapter will not seem like much as it's just Luthor being normal (nastily cruel) Luthor. Past the two chapters, the cast grows, but will center on Flash, Superman, Batman, Question, Martian Manhunter. These are my personal favorites in the series. Females will be in, but in very minor scenes. I'm not a misogynist I just prefer reading and writing about male characters.
> 
> Kyer does not own any of the lyrics, quotes, brand names, or other copyrighted references including DC comics properties although she pines for that Wally-unmasked action figure should they ever make one. Which to date...they have not. You'd think they would what with Barry's return and all. *mega sigh*

.

_  
_

_._

_One man's constant is another man's variable. ~Alan J. Perlis_

_._

 

>  
> 
> _To be, or not to be: that is the question:_   
> _Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer_   
> _The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,_   
> _Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,_   
> _And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;_   
> _No more; and by a sleep to say we end_   
> _The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks_   
> _That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation_   
> _Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;_   
> _To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;_   
> _For in that sleep of death what dreams may come_   
> _When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,_   
> _Must give us pause: there's the respect_   
> _That makes calamity of so long life;_   
> _For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,_   
> _The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,_   
> _The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,_   
> _The insolence of office and the spurns_   
> _That patient merit of the unworthy takes,_   
> _When he himself might his quietus make_   
> _With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,_   
> _To grunt and sweat under a weary life,_   
> _But that the dread of something after death,_   
> _The undiscover'd country from whose bourn_   
> _No traveller returns, puzzles the will_   
> _And makes us rather bear those ills we have_   
> _Than fly to others that we know not of?_   
> _Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;_   
> _And thus the native hue of resolution_   
> _Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,_   
> _And enterprises of great pith and moment_   
> _With this regard their currents turn awry,_   
> _And lose the name of action._
> 
> _William Shakespeare~from Hamlet_

* * *

**Child's Play 1: You're Mine Now**

[Six Months Ago: Unknown area of Metropolis]

_Stopped here; thwarted there!_

Luthor almost pounded his fist on the cell wall to vent his frustration at the sudden influx of memories. He would have done so had he not been holding all the winning cards in the end. That thought was more than consoling~it was _invigorating_ ; albeit at the moment Lex chose to physically vent past frustrations regardless of this. Purely for their effect on another.

He had a _guest_.

The Gods of Serendipity had smiled at him. He was victorious, and to the victor~naturally~belonged the spoils. Let the Bat and the Boy Scout search all they wanted. They'd never find their impetuous 'child'.

"Do you think I would have forgotten, boy? I did my research. It was _you_ who got rid of the bomb from the Watchtower that day. Green Lantern found it, but without your action the knowledge of where it was located would merely have been the last thought in his brain before the Watchtower was destroyed with all on board." He let his past annoyance over that show on his face before continuing.

The boy remained silent in defiance.

_Good. This is to be savored like a multi-course meal. Such dining was designed with mounting pleasure in mind._

"It was because of you that the heist from Kaznia was nearly a complete failure; and how could I forget lying there naked and on display as you looked down upon your handiwork-having wrested all my hopes and dreams from me? I've always wanted to ask...did you do that on purpose? Did you like what you saw?"

_Ah...yes. There. A tremble in his limbs; a slight head jerk of denial. Little cracks in the wall starting._

Lex snickered. "Or maybe I'm in error. Maybe you'd already taken a gander earlier? Say, that time when Dr. Fate switched our minds and you dallied in private with dear, smitten Talia? She was pretty, wasn't she? Delectable eye candy-without any knowledge that a complete stranger was ogling her treasures."

West cringed at the mention of the sultry witch who had been some sort of girlfriend to Luthor. "No! It wasn't like that. You know it wasn't. She wanted to, but I would never...could never..." The rattled boy took a breath to compose himself. "I'm not like that."

"Considering your past behavior as a living hyper hormone, I doubt others would be convinced." He gave a deprecative smile. "However, I believe you. Ironic, isn't it? Posturing aside, you're far too much of a goody-two-shoes to have held ulterior motives or to have taken personal advantage of any part of that situation." The smile turned wolfish. "For the first time in your life you saw what a _real_ man had, but were too much of a _boy_ to know what to do with the opportunity."  
 _  
He's blushing. Interesting. It seems I've hit the nail on the head. West pretends a man's superego to cloak the fact he is still just a little boy underneath. The League's other power house has an Achilles Heel besides dense gravity traps and impulsiveness. This will be more fun than I thought._

"I, however, had no such qualms while living in your body. It was admittedly disappointing not to be able just then to place a name to your face; however, there is always a certain pleasure to be had when in close quarters with a striking young man and a rather large mirror." He paused for effect. "It's amazing how much that physique of yours can accomplish in less than five minutes."

Green eyes crinkled in confusion. "What?"

_Donning innocence will not shield you, though it is humorous to watch the attempt...and tear it asunder. It took only seven times around Jericho to defeat the mighty fortress. You, boy, are no stronghold of Jericho. You are a mere sandcastle for which the tide swiftly approaches._

"Plenty of time, wouldn't you say, to get better acquainted with my new circumstances," Luthor hinted, crouching down to the prisoner's level to better drive the figurative knife home. "It was dismaying at first...to be able to get off so fast. Hardly seemed worth the trouble. But then, I discovered there were some compensations...perks?" He leaned in to breath into his prisoner's face. "I counted five times in the restroom before I heard the posse coming."

His smile widened as the younger man went deathly pale.

"You...you..." the young hero choked as indignation warred with horror. "You had no right to... _gods!_ " Green eyes flickered towards the floor; skin flushed.

Lex relished every moment.

"The League jester at a loss for a descriptive word? Let me help. Explore? Ravish? Defile? _Rape_ you? Are one of those the terms you are casting about for or shall I get you a thesaurus? Really, _boy_ , how could it have been sexual assault or even considered non consensual as it was at the time _my_ body I was amusing myself with?" He let out a dark laugh. "As an employee of a police department, you have heard the phrase _victimless crime_. In this case you were _a crime-less victim_. Face it, _boy_ , I _owned_ you and there is nothing you could or can do about what I did."

Obviously distressed, West had let his head hang down while he was speaking. The youngster looked like he wanted to throw up, but instead of bile only tears were leaking from his face. Probably wishing he could hide the fact from his captor, Luthor gloated. Maybe even hoping when the others came for him the Martian would erase this unwanted knowledge from his mind?

The sandcastle walls of Jericho were crumbling into the Sea of Despair.

_A child clinging desperately to the last shreds of his fantasy world of good over evil. How foolish of his keepers to have ever let the boy go anywhere without adult supervision and a leash. Just one more little push now and the last of the castle certainly falls. I think my tale of exploits doesn't even have to have a kernel of truth anymore._

"Of course, with all the time I had while literally in your shoes, who knows what else I might have done? Lot of pretty heroines up there in the Watchtower. As you are so fond of saying, you are the fastest man alive. Kiss the girls and make them cry. Should I elaborate? A better question would be...will those lovely ladies ever truly _forgive The Flash_?"

_Still you cling to sandy remnants? No, I can feel the wail climbing out his mouth along with little_ _tremors. Trumpets and earthquakes felled Jericho. A sandcastle gone with the fullness of the tide. Such intense emotions. Truly my playmate is a child in mind and heart; not even aware he's curling up for comfort with the enemy who brought him to this state._

"Poor, poor, Mr. West-no...No, I think I've earned the right to call you _Wally. H_ as villainous Lex Luthor upset you, Wally?" he asked with mock sympathy. "Do you want to run away from the bad man?" Luthor chuckled as he ran his fingers through the reddish hair and placed a kiss on a salty cheek; felt the man shudder from the unwanted touches. "Well, that's rather regrettable, I'm afraid. You see, I've found I have a taste for ginger spice. You're mine now. I'm not ever letting you go."

  



	2. Wally Is Speed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally's been completely at the mercy of Lex Luthor.
> 
> Luthor's going to regret that.

**Chapter 2: Wally Is Speed**

* * *

.

_Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are. ~Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha_

_._

Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents which, in prosperous circumstances, would have lain dormant. ~Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus), Satires

.

* * *

.

[Current Time: LexCorp Headquarters, Metropolis]

He didn't recall much, but he knew this one truth: Life was divided into two parts: Here and There.

If at one time there had existed more than this he wasn't certain and didn't really care, because caring was irrelevant since right now there were only Here and There.

 _There_ it hurt. _There_ was where his five senses were turned against him.

Taste was bitter seed burning his throat.

Smell was the malodorous stench of Luthor's musk.

Hearing was caustic words shredding his soul.

Sight only aided and abetted the other senses in torture.

Touch...yes, that was the worst of all. How he downright feared the sense of touch.

It was the touching that had drove him to lengths he would previously not have thought possible. Lengths that had taken him _Here_.

It was quiet and peaceful _Here_. No anguish, no torment, no pain. There were none of the five senses to deal with-that was the whole point of being _Here_ and not _There_.

However, being _Here_ did not mean he was always unaware of what had transpired _There_. (After all, if he forgot it totally he might accidentally get drawn back.)

Since being captured by the Bald One, he had suffered daily humiliation, deprivation, belittlement, rape and medical testing at the will of a man who disdained all he loved and valued. His attempts at escape had been fruitless. Rescue from without had not come nor was it likely to.

Overcome with despair, he had eventually sought and found another way to cope-by hiding within the recesses of his mind. The League would undoubtedly be amazed he'd actually managed it; that is, if they ever found out that _the child_ had mustered the mental discipline of being silent for days straight. Of course, it had helped that his body had been rendered to within near total paralysis for weeks beforehand. Faced with that eternity of boredom, he'd had no choice but to practice patience.

He would stay inside _Here_ and eschew reality until he died. It seemed cowardly, he knew; but it was either that or go insane. Certainly it was preferable to die dreaming rather than raving.

He-Wally West-was safe as long as he remained _Here_.

* * *

_-Wally West-_

Wally stirred from his dreaming state of mind, annoyed at the intrusion. The voice that had 'woken' him was not J'onn's. He would have been elated to hear J'onn's. This was not his friend, however, and never would be. His friends had abandoned him. Who, then, was this?

'Who?'

_-Wally West-_

Great...a repetitive statement. Not even a question, Wally mused, and done in a mimic of his own voice-or at least what he always thought his voice sounded like. (In the lifetime past, he'd tape recorded it on his answering machine and it had startled him a bit just how different you sounded in reality from what you sounded like in your own head.) Anyway, if it was just some part of his mind thinking aloud he'd just tell it to shut up so he could go back to dreaming about nothing.

_'Shut up, head.'_

There. He may be immature, but he knew how to mind his mind. Wally snickered at his own joke, wondering what Batman would say to that. But Batman had no sense of humor and Batman wasn't here because he like the others hadn't deemed Wally worth saving.

_-Wally West-_

Well, shit.

Not his own battered brain then, this voice poking him into awareness? It seemed his tormentors had found a new way to attack his hard-won comfort zone. Probably some telepath like J'onn. Luthor must be really annoyed with his last resistance tactic to get a telepath in here seeing as Baldy didn't like the possibility of having a mind controller turning the tables on him like Grodd had.

He could ignore it. He may be going crazy, but he was _not_ giving up this last bastion of defense because that would mean he'd be truly reduced to a state of total failure like the other heroes expected.

Wally might resent their abandonment, but he did miss the Watchtower's occupants. He missed everyone in the League so badly-even Batman's scowling jaw.

If only Luthor would just get it over with and kill him. Surely now that he'd stopped outwardly responding to the hairless ghoul's manipulations, Luthor would kill him? Wally wanted to die. He wanted to be free. It had become so apparent over the weeks of pain that death was the only freedom from this hellish existence as Luthor's play toy.

Except for _Here_. But _Here_ was under attack it seemed.

_-Wally West-_

Crap.

As much as he disliked doing so, Wally decided he may as well play along with it for a bit. It might prove fun, anyway.

 _'Well, duh! Technically, it's Wallace Rudolph West, though,'_ Wally snickered with undisguised derision as he 'thought back' to the intruder. _'Shows how good at mind reading you are. If you're gong to crash a guy's brain, you might at least get the owner's name right. I mean, it's kind of rude getting so informal before we've even been properly introduced.'_

The voice, however, refused to get offended at his dismissive attitude towards it. It did change it's monologue a little though.

_-Wally West...speed-_

_'You know, for a telepath, you really need to work on your communication skills. Maybe start with your cache of words. It's rather pathetic.'_

_-Wally West...speed-_

_'Geez, one track mind, huh? Well, here's the thing, Mystery Voice. I can't. See, I'm a bit unmotivated. Or maybe not_ _ motionated _ _if that's a word. Didn't Luthor fill you in on the facts before he sent you over to say hello?'_

_-Wally West is speed-_

Wally sighed. The fun factor was starting to dissipate rapidly as this tormentor was proving rather boring. That, and he really didn't want to be reminded about the whole, depressing, drugged-voluntary-muscle controlled state thing.

_'Not at the moment. Not for a long time, really. Never mind. Forget it. I am. In fact, this is me turning off the lights and waving goodbye. Now, be a good unwanted guest and close the door on your way out.'_

_-Wally West is speed-_

_'Look...don't know who you are, but you've already made me lose the bookmarked page of my Happy Place. I'm royally ticked. Tuning out now.'_

_-Wally West IS speed-_

_'Great. A telepath who's hard of hearing as well as a moron. Let me spell it out in words of one syllable. Wally no have speed. Bad man with bad drugs make no speed. Wally no go. Except back to sleep. Got that?'_

_-Speed is...Wally West is-_

Persistent bugger.

_-Speed IS...Wally West IS-_

_'Okay, okay,'_ Wally agreed as the voice got louder and more insistent. ' _Wally is speed. Got it already. Happy now?'_

_-WALLY IS SPEED-_

Too tired to argue with the voice in his brain and with literally nothing better to do, Wally stopped trying to figure out why the voice was bugging him with the same nonsense. Instead, he mused on the words it so wanted him to accept and their possible meaning. Perhaps if he picked the words apart as if they were crime evidence?

Wally West is speed?

Well, he was The Flash. Except at the moment he _wasn't_.

Wally West is?

Yep, he was still alive. If you could call this living.

Speed is?

Okay...yeah...there was The Speed Force: the mysterious energy field he'd accidentally run into while fighting Brainiac/Luthor. Since that little episode he'd felt it like some sort of peripheral background sense, kind of-sort of presence thing. It was still there. He just couldn't access it now thanks to Luthor and his pet pharmacists with their triple cursed special effects.

Best let that painful thought go and thought back to what speed was.

Speed was motion...gravitational forces.

Speed (noun): the rapidity of movement or action. The rate at which something is able to move or operate.

So... Wally West is speed.

Wally West is the rapidity of movement or action?

No. That wasn't it. He was paralyzed. He couldn't control _shit_.

Calm down. The voice wasn't concerned about his current lack of mobility. That wasn't the answer.

Wally West controls the rapidity of movement or action.

Wally West.

Me.

 _I control the rapidity of movement or action?_ Wally concentrated hard on this idea, considering it from all angles.

_'I control the rapidity of movement or action; Wally West, can control the_ _ rate _ _at which something is able to move or operate?'_

Could he? Was it possible to alter the molecules of something's relationship to speed? In chemistry you could change things to some extent within the laws of science. Water could not become gold (at least not with human science), but it could become steam as it's molecules were accelerated. Steam reverted back to water as it cooled or decelerated.

Accelerated...decelerated.

_-Yes...Wally West IS Speed-_

Wallace Rudolph West's eyes opened as he grasped this epiphany.

The captive smiled, then laughed.

He understood!

In a moment, Lex Luthor would understand too.

* * *

Luthor was in a private conference with one of his highest-level scientist employees, but heard the quiet laughter coming from the corner and glanced at the naked man with mild surprise.

Since breaking the boy, Luthor kept the former hero in his private office where he could admire him at any time. He'd spent a small fortune on a custom designed cage usually sold to dog fanciers. It even had the boy's name and pedigree on a golden placard to be shown off like all his favorite trophies were to the few trusted others allowed inside. A specially designed robot kept the boy medicated, fed, and clean for whenever Lex had time to play with him as Luthor didn't like the idea of anyone else touching his pet. Wally was _his_ property. Like the original Rembrandts, the speedster was one of a kind and not for general public display.

Of late, Wally had been nigh well catatonic and no fun at all. Lex had put it down to being miffed at the tattoo he'd had burned into his pet's hindquarters along with a GPS chip. Lex had even taken the time to explain to his Wally how important he was to Lex and that everyone know who he belonged to should (security measures forbid) he ever get lost in the building one day. Collars and name tags could get misplaced. Tattoos and chips were much better. He'd even cuddled with him during the mildly painful process of the vertebrae chip implant since the doctor had been unwilling to risk anesthesia what with Wally's unusual metabolism. The ungrateful boy had just closed his eyes after nearly screaming Luthor deaf and...slept ever since. Now there was a large smile on the meta's face. Luthor wasn't sure if he was amused or annoyed by this as he really had important work to do.

"So..finally got over your sulk, boy?" Luthor asked as he decided on portraying patient amusement rather than something more along the line of immediate disciplinary action. "I was beginning to think I would have to hire a mind therapist to drag you back out of whatever mental hole you'd fallen into."

The boy's grin faded as he lifted his chin enough for Lex to see the hardening green eyes nearly hidden by shaggy hair. Lex made a note on having the robot's grooming program updated for more frequent hair cuts. As much as he enjoyed the color, such shaggy wildness was not really to his taste.

"Hey there, Alexander, and..Mr. Jenson, isn't it?" Wally politely addressed them.

The scientist glanced at his employer before giving the captive a small nod. Wally smiled easily back at him, making the scientist shift uncomfortably. (Months ago when the mutated animal had been first brought in he had tried talking to it. However, Luthor had made it clear that the caged humanoid was not to be messed with or catered to without Luthor's express permission. Jenson wasn't sure how to respond to it now that it was talking to him. Surely just a non-verbal response was okay? Or had he committed a faux paus?)

"Did you know that the Earth speeds at roughly 67,000 miles per hour around the sun? The orbit is elliptical, so it actually changes throughout the year...but that gives you a pretty good idea of how fast we are moving right now."

The scientist blinked at the unsolicited information and his bosses' lack of ire at the continued interruption. Was he supposed to answer the creature? Luthor made no sign, but neither did he make a move to discipline his unorthodox pet.

Or Jenson.

Yet.

"Yes, I know that," Jenson nervously looked away, pretending to be considering his data sheet.

Luthor raised an eyebrow at Wally who looked pleased at Jenson's answer. Two weeks of dull silence and now his prize decided to wake up and start spouting basic trivia? Something was off with his pet, Lex realized. Wally not only appeared fairly lucid, but was openly expressing defiance again like he'd not shown since Lex had broken the boy's spirit. Something had rekindled his captive hope after all this time? No matter. In fact, he would enjoy tracking it down and pissing on this little spark of independence as he had done to the other ones.

However, right now he was involved in an important decision process which Wally's bad timing was currently delaying. Business before pleasure as they say.

Still, Luthor mused, the boy had rarely failed to amuse him in the past. He'd give his pet a moment's attention before returning to the project-as well as dealing with Jenson's overstepping himself in sharing a discourse with his property.

"I hardly think astronomy is important to either of us right now. What's really troubling my Wally? Fly got in your water dish? Litter box need refreshing?" Unlike each time before, the boy didn't blush and huddle in on himself at the reminder of the accommodations designed for pedigreed animals and his lack of attire.

"Everything to do with speed is important, Luthor," Wally retorted with an air of deadly seriousness. "I should know. I _am_ speed."

Lex Luthor chuckled. "Only if I ever allow you to be which won't be anytime soon with that surly attitude. You are mine, boy. You'll live mine and die mine." He turned away in dismissal. Really, enough was enough. The day wasn't getting any younger. "Jenson, I want the kryptonite shipment-"

Wally, though, was not about to be dismissed. Rather, he spoke even more insistently.

"Allow?" Wally scoffed. "I am Wally West, The Flash. The Fastest Man Alive. I admit I never really gave that much consideration before beyond the fact that I liked to run around a lot, but now I have and I know who and what I am."

"Really," Luthor crossed his arms. He looked down at his prize with hooded lids, part of his mind considering more volatile forms of discipline than he'd first planned to enact when Wally had opened his mouth. "I know what you are too. You are a young, muddle-headed boy, a prisoner, a pet, a toy, an amusement that I keep alive on a whim and everything you are belongs to me." To his surprise, West didn't bow his head in submission, but continued on as if he hadn't spoken.

"I _am_ attuned with the speed force by the gift it graced me with. Together, we control rapidity. We control motion. We can alter the progress of entropy and of life itself and what we choose to do, you can't stop. You can't own The Speed Force no matter how much money you accumulate. I urge that for the sake of everyone you _listen_ to me, Luthor. The Flash may show his rogues mercy, but was never known for his patience when dealing with outright scum." The look in his eyes left no doubt on just what the speedster's definition of 'scum' was.

Standing seemingly forgotten as the two traded glares, Dr. Jenson paled. "Um...Mr. Luthor, if he can do as he claims..." the scientist paused, swallowed.

Sweated.

Wally's grin returned, but it wasn't pleasant. "You're flunky has a vivid imagination. I suggest you all get out of the building before his fear becomes reality under your feet." Luthor looked between the two and scowled his displeasure.

"Mr. Jenson, you pay attention to what _I say_ and only to _me_ unless you want to find yourself unemployed and blacklisted."

"But sir...considering the facts..." an increasingly paranoid Jenson mopped at his brow before clearing his throat, "perhaps we should do as he says."

Luthor scoffed. " _Mr. Jenson_ , let me make this plain. The boy is on drugs and has been comatose for days. He can't move his legs or arms enough to do anything the least bit threatening. He can barely move his head. The only thing that he can move with any normalcy appears to be his tongue. I hardly think I should be taking his words seriously. Neither should you. Now get a grip on reality or-"

"Yes, I do sound insane, don't I?" Wally sneered. "Only I'm not and you both _know_ it. Your drugs affect my muscles-not my brain. You also think you understand me inside and out, but you don't, do you, Luthor? How could you comprehend what I've only just realized myself? Get the people out," Wally earnestly repeated. "I don't want them to die, but I _am_ going to do something deadly. Final warning." He started humming to the tune of Rocket Man.

"Mr. Luthor.." Jenson was nervously backing towards the exit. It was locked. He started to shiver. "I don't think you realize the possibilities-"

Geology, physics...dear god...the sheer scope of possible...

The floor under their feet groaned. Luthor looked down, startled by the unexpected sound and the sudden jolt that followed. A moment later, the building's emergency alarms sounded.

"What was...?" Luthor started to ask.

"It's him!" Jenson gulped, pointing his finger at the caged meta. "He's _shifting_ the speed of the building."

Luthor narrowed his eyes at what he thought was an insane statement. "A building doesn't _have_ speed, you idiot."

"Yes it _does_...it does _in relation to the speed of the Earth_. It normally moves just as fast as the terrain it sits on. But what if it suddenly _didn't_?" The man looked terrified as he turned and beat his fists against the exit. "For the love of humanity, Mr. Luthor, we have to get out of here!"

"Don't be stupi-"

The LexCorp headquarters shuddered again. Lit up security monitors showed employees not waiting for an evacuation order, but storming from the building in a panic. Luthor took a breath as realization dawned in him that in a time there aliens were allowed to live free amongst humans- _real_ humans with _real_ ties and rights to breath on planet Earth-was anything truly impossible? Therefore a building that was no longer tied equally to the velocity of the planet...

"It would either fly forward or get left behind by said planet- _at potentially thousands of miles per hour._ "

Lex Luthor cursed himself thoroughly for being so foolish. He should have sent for a telepathic meta immediately rather than leaving West to stew alone in his own mind where he'd have nothing to do but _imagine_ limitless boundaries and wasn't the mind the most powerful weapon of all? Somehow the boy had managed to tap into a potential even Luthor had not dreamed the supposedly hobbled speedster could possess.

Recrimination was pointless now. He'd lick his wounds later. First he had to survive this debacle.

Pressing the emergency escape button on his desk made a hidden doorway appear. Yet he ignored Jenson's mad dash into the passage way. Instead Luthor whirled on his prisoner, an automatic hidden behind his back. Ideas for manipulating the man's basic nature one last time rushed through his mind in a desperate attempt to save his investments before he placed a bullet in the redhead's brain...state-of-the-art steel-coated skyscrapers weren't exactly cheap! Either way, Wally West was now too powerful to be allowed to exist beyond today. Superman was one thing with his weakness to kryptonite. This maturing speedster was something too dangerous to allow to exist on the same plane as a yet-mortal Lex Luthor.

"You'd kill all of us-even the innocent?" he rasped as the building shook even harder. "Even yourself?"

"Oh, Master Lexy, you really do care about your Wally," a scathing West mocked him. He shook his head. "Unlike you, I am concerned about lives beyond my own. So I am giving you the chance to evacuate. Your property, however, is going to be a severely devalued empty patch of bare soil. That much I promise you."

Luthor pulled out the gun and pointed it at the man's head. "How about I just evacuate your brains instead?"

Wally graced him with a shark's smile that would have given Superman pause. "Baldy, If I can send a LexCorp skyscraper hurtling into space by removing one basic thing from it, what makes you think I can't do the same on a tiny bullet?"

A good point.

Hissing, Luthor hurled the gun at Wally's head, turned and ran for his escape vehicle. Thus occupied with saving his own life, he didn't see the weapon stop in mid air then drop to the ground before it would have hit the cage.

"LUTHOR!" Wally yelled after him. Lex felt the speed go out of his body just as he was seconds from crossing the threshold. Time felt frozen except within his skull. It occurred to him that despite his high words of morality West was going to kill him after all. Fear filled his heart as Luthor realized just how powerful the meta had become. He wracked his brain for some way to combat this new godling.

Stacks of data compiled on the Flash and his brain was coming up with nothing immediately useful!

"No, you aren't going to die yet. But make no mistake. Hurt any more people and you'll find out just what _an avatar of The Speed Force_ is really capable of."

Wally had not moved in the cage-only stared at him with harsh eyes-yet Luthor felt the momentum of his body return as time became fluid again. He kept on running until he reached the jet he'd placed there for a quick get away. Dr. Jenson was trying to get a door to open. Luthor squelched his impulse to knock the man aside and let the scientist enter as well. He set the take off sequence in record time. Later, he'd replay everything that had happened and try to think of a way to either thoroughly chain or kill the speedster who had defeated him yet again.

* * *

Still unmoving from his position since waking up, Wally let his head fall forward until his chin rested on his chest and sighed in exhaustion. Every living thing other than himself was now a suitable distance away from the danger zone. The building was continuing it's slow breaking from it's earthly moorings and it was taking all his waning concentration to keep it at a controlled rate so that none of the debris would get hurled into the populace. It was ironic that with all he was doing-all the forces he was orchestrating-Wally was too tired to move his own body and save himself from death. Ironic as well that a speedster who reveled in the Earth's gravity should expire separated from it.

Perhaps it was just as well that he died in the vacuum of space. No man was meant to control so much power as The Speed Force contained. Surely this was also what it desired as it didn't truly require a human bonded to it or risk the human becoming as corrupted by it as wealth had corrupted Luthor.

Wally had always craved attention, but Godhood? It was not right for him to desire it and he didn't want to chance it ever appealing to him to the point he _would_ want it.

He never, _ever_ , wanted to share the aspirations of Lex Luthor.

At least Luthor would not discover his death for some time and would in the meanwhile be too cowed to plot his schemes, thus giving his old team mates a break from that man's global avarice.

Or one could only hope so.

He certainly wasn't going to live long enough to know for sure one way or the other.

* * *

With his whole being intent on keeping the death toll of his action down to just the one casualty, Wally didn't even realize it when Superman burst inside, scooped him up, and flew him to safety. Meanwhile The Green Lantern used his power ring to make certain nothing else was harmed as the LexCorp building left the Earth's gravity range to continue it's journey towards the the sun.

  
  



	3. What Dreams May Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say that when you die your entire life flashes before your eyes.  
> So how come Flash's life seems to have scenes added?

**Chapter 3: What Dreams May Come**

* * *

_._

_We do survive every moment, after all, except the last one. ~John Updike_

_._

* * *

.

[Time Unknown: Place: The Watchtower]

_"Superman," Batman's deep voice came out of nowhere, momentarily startling him._

_The Man Of Steel turned around and graced his friend with a smile knowing full well that it would not be reciprocated. That was just the way Bruce Wayne was when in his crime fighting personae. Everyone accepted it (unless you were like a certain speedster who tried to get The Caped Crusader to crack a smile anyway. Of course Flash did have the option of suddenly being a thousand miles away from Batman should his overtures earn him more than just a cold shoulder, a recourse most did not have so maybe their speedster saw the risk as worth it._

_"Batman...something up?" The Dark Knight's usual grim expression gave him no clue as to how serious this was...or wasn't. Superman reflected that maybe The Flash was right about a need to get Batman to wear a mood ring so as to have some sort of indication of the man's true disposition from moment to moment._

_"We need to talk."_

_Uh oh. That phrase never bode well for somebody._

_"Fine. Come on, you can air your latest grievance against whomever it is on the way to the commissary. I was just heading there to eat lunch with Flash." Superman chuckled. "John's birthday is coming up," the Kryptonian explained. "He's got this idea for a party featuring all green St. Patrick's Day stuff and Irish barmaids even though John isn't..."_

_"Cancel."_

_Superman smirked at Batman's abrupt tone. "Don't get all ruffled. I haven't even agreed to anything yet. Besides, he did a good job with J'onzz's Life Day. Who'd have guessed that oreos could be used to-", but again Batman interrupted before he could get the sentence finished._

_"I'm not referring to the party. I need to speak with you._ _ Alone _ _."_

_Sighing, Superman contacted The Flash via his communicator as he followed The Dark Knight down the hallways knowing Flash was going to sulk at what he'd see as a long delay in getting 'Supes' ear. Superman agreed to change his lunch plans with the disappointed speedster to a dinner one instead. He shut off his communicator._

_"Okay, now that I'm going to have to buy him dessert to make up for breaking our original birthday-bash groundwork date...what's this about?" Batman had stopped walking. Seeing where they'd ended up, Superman's eyebrows rose a bit. "_ _ Your _ _room?"_

_What could be so important that Batman was only willing to relate it in the highest-secured quarters of the Watchtower?_

_"This can't go beyond the three of us."_

_"Three? I thought you said you wanted to talk to me alone?"_

_Batman opened his door. A confused Superman stepped through to see Martian Manhunter waiting for them._

* * *

[Current Time: Watchtower]

Ensconced in a warm blanket of certainty over his last decision on-or above-Earth, Wally waited for the end to come. He'd lost all sense of time-unusual for him-but that was okay. Lost time like old dreams hardly mattered now.

_-Wally-_

* * *

[Time Unknown: Watchtower]

_Superman looked away from the computer display, feeling like he was caught in some sort of dream world._

_"This is a practical joke, right? I mean, consider who we're talking about." The Man of Steel rubbed his forehead with a small, forced laugh. "You're making it sound like he's some sort of mating between Brainiac and Morgaina." Sol's rays, what a thought! "Wait a minute...didn't I read this plot in High School?" He snapped his fingers, expression brightening like a summer's day. "Childhood's End by Arthur C. Clark. Childhood's..End..Clark. Well, that explains everything...I told him about that novel last week. This is a another gag of Wally's about his turning 19 next month, isn't it? Of course. He wants me to start planning_ _ his _ _birthday party." A gleeful Superman looked around at his two comrades-who remained grim. His good mood evaporated. "You...You_ _ can't _ _be serious?"_

_"Deadly." Batman again pointed to the set of monitor graphs. "We've double checked them all. Even Fate could see no way around it. Should he reach his full potential, the very stability of the world could be jeopardized."_

_"Isn't that a bit exaggerating the situation?" Turning his gaze to J'onzz, he silently asked for confirmation, because..._

_Really unlikely if not down-right impossible scenario._

_The Martian looked pained._

_"It is not as far fetched as it sounds. I am sorry."_

_"This is ridiculous!" Superman gestured around the room to indicate the whole of the space station, "In case it escaped your graphs and charts there are a few in the League who could potentially destroy the world. They_ _ always _ _could, but you know the likelihood of that. In fact, if you're really worried about someone going off their rocker it should be me-a meta who could pulverize a city easily within an hour."_

_"True..but you have a known and exploitable weakness." J'onzz looked deeply morose. "Even so, you would not be able to destroy life on Earth within minutes._ _ He _ _could inadvertently do this-even if not off his rocker."_

_"He's hardly past childhood," Superman argued, but with lessening conviction._

_Batman stared evenly at him. "Exactly. Unlike the rest of us he's still not truly explored his capabilities. Like it or not, we must consider him an innocent, even playful- yet for all that_ _ dangerous _ _-child in a room with the controls of an Omega-bomb at hand."_

_"Alright..." Superman sighed, feeling more tired than he'd ever remembered. "Say that what you think will happen comes to pass. What can we_ _ mere _ _" he accented the word,"super metas do to stop the prophesied end of all things?"_

_Batman looked away; Manhunter bowed his head._

_In the forbidding confines that surrounded them Superman felt sweat forming on his upper brow as they remained silent._

_This could not be happening. It could_ _ not _ _. This was a fellow,_ _ likable _ _, hero they were talking about-not a menace to be countered...an adversary to thwart._

_This was_ _ Wally _ _._

* * *

[Current Time: Watchtower]

_-Wally...THREAT-_

Exhausted, barely awake, Wally felt something brush the outskirts his mind.

Danger?

Of course there was the threat of imminent death. Death by freezing or asphyxiation were the most likely. But he knew that already. He was hurtling into _outer space_ for goodness sake.

He was dying.

_-Wally fear Bruce-_

* * *

[Time Unknown: Watchtower]

_"Drugs? Mental disciplines-Fate must know something we can try. Damn it, Bruce, there must be some way!" Clark was going out of his mind trying to think of a solution-and the others were not helping._

_"There_ _ isn't _ _."_

_When Batman finally responded to the other Founder's demands, it was so quietly that Superman would not have heard it without his enhanced hearing ability. What Clark did not know was that he and J'onzz had already had their own shouting match over this. The two had brainstormed and researched counter possibilities for weeks. All for naught._

_"I've run every possible scenario through Fate, Zatanna and Oracle. Delaying the inevitable would be increasingly finite in duration. It's only a matter of time."_

_"Then...there's only one thing we can do. To save everything..." a harried Superman felt sick as he came to the same conclusion his team mates had already reached days earlier._

_Bruce grit his teeth. "_ _ Yes _ _."_

_How could a simple, three-letter word carry such damnation?_

* * *

[Current Time: Watchtower]

_-THREAT-_

Wally frowned. He shouldn't be thinking these thoughts now. It didn't matter any more. Others would have to save the world without him from now on. All he wanted to do was sleep.

_-Wally fear Clark-_

* * *

[Time Uknown: Watchtower]

_Each could swear that the room had gotten darker; more closed in._

_Stifling._

_Batman cleared his throat, unable to keep up his facade of objectivity. "Clark...I'm sorry. As the only one who stands a chance to keep up with him for long enough to..."_

_"I...I don't think I can...do it." Superman had gone unnaturally pale._

_"Perhaps not now," J'onzz attempted to console him though in the back of his mind he had to concede that he was really just...what was the human phrase?...clutching at straws? "Even as a fellow Founder, he is as yet immature in so many ways. Irresponsible, impulsive...insecure, that is how he is perceived and perceives himself. As long as he isn't looking to know what he is capable of...realizing what he can do..."_

_Superman nodded, relieved to be able to postpone contemplating such a dire action. "That's it then. Good plan. As long as he thinks he's a just a bit player allowed to be rubbing spandexed shoulders with the big boys..?"_

_"He's as safe as he ever was." J'onn quickly agreed._

_"For now," Batman added, sounding more than a little dubious._

_Superman brushed it aside. "For_ _ now _ _." He firmly stated it as a done deal. "So for his own good and ours...we subtly work to keep him that way for as long as we possibly can. He mustn't know about his coming future or lack thereof."_

_J'onn gave a small smile._

_Batman was as still as chiseled stone._

* * *

[Current Time: Watchtower]

_-Wally-_

"Hermes on rollerblades...I'm dying, here, Mystery Voice. Give it a rest already."

_-Not trust J'onn-_

* * *

[Time Unknown: Place Unspecified]

_"By the rings of Oa-did you see that?" The Green Lantern's jaw had dropped even as he bent to check over the utterly exhausted Flash. His buddy was out like a light after doing what had to be the impossible. Next to John, the Martian gravely nodded._

_"Yes...he just...I believe Flash accelerated Brainiac's components...faster than he could compensate for the damage."_

_"You mean he_ _ aged _ _Brainiac to death?" John was horrified. He was certain Flash would be as well when he found out. Well, he was mostly upset about Wally's reaction. His friend had never killed_ _before...hated the very idea of taking a life. Wally had this odd idea that even beings like Darkseid might be redeemable somehow._

_"Essentially." J'onzz sighed in a fatalistic manner that Stewart failed to pick up on. He did, however, not fail to miss the dark figures gliding over to them._

_"Brainiac fell apart into composite dust after experiencing compressed entropy," Batman confirmed, studying the remains._

_"Flash is going to go into a funk over this." John informed them. "On the other hand the world is going to go berserk wanting his autograph. I'm honestly not sure how he's going to react to it all."_

_Instead of responding to Green Lantern's comment, Batman glanced up at The Man Of Steel who also did not look happy. "Superman, we need to discuss something in private."_

_They walked away together, J'onzz not needing to follow to know what they would be discussing. He made sure the two could talk in private by directing Stewart to take The Flash to the hospital and get him checked out._

_"I_ _ know _ _," Superman growled before Batman could say anything. "It's time. But he's more favored than ever with the world's populace and now with this battle..." He double checked to make sure nobody was able to overhear. "If I just out and..get rid of him, the world will be stoning me with chunks of kryptonite."_

_"We can't put it off," Batman hissed. "You know that. All the acclaim from the press will just make him more curious about what he can ultimately accomplish." The Dark Knight sighed. "Clark, I'm aware you don't want to..do it."_

_Superman held up his hand. "Don't worry about it. I've had time to come to terms with the necessity. However, there is a course of action that will accomplish the deed without any League member having to-"_

_"Get our hands dirty?" Batman sarcastically finished, not liking how accustomed Superman had come to the idea of murdering a team mate. He almost sighed a second time; suppressed the urge. They really didn't have a choice. "Right," his eyes drifted to the side to watch Lantern fly a groggy Flash away. "Go on with your plan." Bruce breathed deep, hating himself for whatever part he would have to play._

_"Luthor," Superman confided in a whisper, "is about to have a really good day. He's going to finally catch a Founder when a mission to infiltrate his organization goes unfortunately wrong due to a misstep by The Scarlet Speedster. Within minutes, the Founder is killed before the League can rescue it's own. Luthor gets a rap he can't easily buy his way out of and it's incarceration for life. Two problems dealt with at one time...no witnesses. The League gets sympathy points; the Earth...survives."_

_"Sounds...workable," Batman conceded. He hated it, but it could work._

_Superman turned to his long-time friend, a hardness in his eyes that made Bruce's breath catch a little._

_"As you made me realize years ago, we can't afford to be_ _ merciful _ _. Flash must die and you and J'onn thrust on me the responsibility of ensuring it. You can not ask me to play Lord with a life and then get squeamish when I act the part." Flushed with anger, he faced away from Batman._

_"You tell Wally we need him ready for a special mission in three days." Superman snapped out the command. "Even if he's not up for it he won't want to refuse and risk_ _ disappointing _ _his hard-to-please idols. Meanwhile, I'll have reporter Clark Kent inadvertently tip Luthor off that a potential job applicant named Wally West is also The Flash."_

* * *

[Current Time: Watchtower]

_-Wally-_

_-Wally-_

_-DANGER-_

_-THREAT-_

* * *

_A/N: Yes, I know this chapter seems out of place. It isn't._

  
  



	4. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt is a powerful force all by itself.  
> Add some Super Heroes and it can turn volatile.

**Chapter 4: Guilt**

* * *

.

The beauty of the world has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.

~Virginia Woolf, _A Room of One's Own_ , 1929

.

* * *

.

[Current Time: Watchtower]

_-Wally is speed...Wally West is speed...Wally is-_

_-Clark Comes...WALLY NOT TRUST CLARK-_

He was cursed. That's what it was. Other people got to see dead loved ones or a bright light. What did he get? A talkative voice with a limited vocabulary. Not to mention the really disturbing images of things that couldn't have actually happened or he'd have remembered it.

Wouldn't he?

Yes, the League hadn't rescued him from Luthor, but he really didn't know why they hadn't. Angry as he was, he'd have heard them out if he could have. It was only fair and with all his heart Wally believed in being fair.

It was a disconcerting mystery to leave unanswered, though.

Were these things he was remembering of being betrayed by Superman, Batman, and J'onn merely oxygen-starvation fueled hallucinations? Or were they real memories that were coming back because of that Life-Passing-Before-Your-Eyes thing that occurred when you were faced with your own mortality and the dying brain started throwing back all the dirty laundry you'd been tossing behind the couch because the washing machine was broken and-?

_-YES..WALLY NOT TRUST THEM-_

_'Please, M.V. just...Don't yell. It's not like I can do anything about it now, anyway. I'm dying, I'm exhausted, and I can't think straight.'_ (Shit _._ Who knew dying would take so damned  long or be so arduous? It seemed even death happened slow from a speedster's perspective.)

_-Rest now...Wally not die-_

_'Sure I'm not. Hitting the upper atmosphere at 6,000 mph is downright rejuvenating for anyone.'_ (Man, am I actually talking with myself here? Is my brain deluding itself about dying? I'm not afraid to die. Not thrilled and rather annoyed about not knowing what really happened, but...)

_'Fine. But...don't hurt anyone until I am dead. Better yet, just don't hurt anyone period.'_

_-NOT agree...Must PROTECT. Wally must stay safe-_

Yeesh.

_'It doesn't matter. Just...I'm either dying or going to sleep. Hurt anyone while I sleep, Mystery Voice, and I swear I'll never listen to you again...even if you're me; which I hope you're not because I want to enjoy my after life by being way more eloquent than that. Rather looking forward to some flirting with_ _the angel babes.'_

_-Keep safe...Wally is special-_

_'Heck, yeah, I've been so popular of late with my fan club of...wait, let me get out the calculator here...one? All the adulation was touching-and I really hated it. Now...seriously...do you fucking agree to cool the destructive tendencies? I think stealing a building was enough sensationalism for my obituary. Other than, you know, being The Fastest Man Alive. When I was alive.'_

_-Not hurt-_

Good.

_-Now-_

(Freaking, obstinate...) _'Oh,_ _fine_ _. We'll get back to this later then? I'll pencil you into my appointment book for sometime after the harp lessons and...and...uh...'_

What the _hell_ was this?

_'You know, much as I like the song-and it is so appropriate right now-why the fuck do I still have classic Elton John loop playing in my head?'_

_-J'onn is threat...Sleep now...Keep safe-_

_'Safe...right.'_ If he wasn't so tired he would have expressed more amusement at that.

* * *

"Superman!" J'onn J'onzz's anxiety level was so high (as was his desire to reach The Man of Steel and relieve him of his burden) that he didn't even consciously realize he'd just dispersed his molecules to phase through the medical tables.

Clark, however, refused to part with their lost sheep; the Kryptonian wasn't relinquishing anything-not now when he'd finally rescued him-and sidestepped the other Founder's attempt to take the bundle away. He'd carried Wally's nude form swathed in his own cape to hide the man from curious eyes and flown back to the Watchtower as fast as he dared. (It had been annoying, yet necessary _not_ to outdistance the Green Lantern's encasing bubble of air lest Wally succumb after all to the deadly vacuum of outer space.) Now The Man of Steel was barking an order to the medical staff to vacate the ward-immediately. They knew better than to hesitate and rushed for the exit. Much to his chagrin, even John Stewart found himself kicked out along with them though he protested this rather vehemently. J'onn noted without any true surprise that Clark didn't care what The Green Lantern thought, intent as the other alien was on waiting impatiently until only J'onn was left to lock the doors and bar the entry of anyone else. Superman finally set the unconscious man on a bed. He again refused the Martian's offer of aid.

J'onzz grudgingly allowed Superman to take charge not because he liked it, but knowing this need to be in complete control rose from the depth of his friend's consuming remorse. All the Founders felt the same pain; however, Clark had suffered the worst feelings of guilt (save for perhaps Bruce who was better at concealing it.) There was no hiding that they had failed as a team and Wally had without a doubt been the one to pay the highest price. From the way Clark was acting, the price had been heavy indeed, yet, happily, not the heaviest of all.

He stood back and asked about the man's condition rather than trying again to discern it. (With his command of telepathy, J'onn could usually have found this out faster than the mechanical aids, but like everything else that had happened in the past few months...this too was going distressingly wrong, so he was forced to ask.)

"How is he?"

"Alive."

* * *

Superman's knew his response had been overly terse and utterly concise, crossing over the line of rudeness; still, he was not immediately concerned about how it would sound right now or of how his current actions would be looked upon. If they still thought so poorly of him, let them. There was a job to do and he was already unforgivably late in seeing it accomplished.

He briskly made Wally as comfortable as possible while hooking him up to the fullest level of diagnostic equipment. The hovering J'onzz was more knowledgeable on just how to do this, but Clark wanted to handle it himself. Perhaps it was to show the others that he _was_ capable of truly caring about Flash. Then again maybe he was just trying to prove to himself that _they_ were wrong about him.

Did it truly matter right now?

Whatever his own motivations might turn out to be, Clark Kent just didn't feel like trusting anyone else with Flash's welfare. Wally was breathing (no thanks, he knew, to Superman) and Clark was still trying to wrap his brain around this unsettling fact: _that Luthor hadn't killed The Flash in all this time despite holding his life in his hands for six whole months._

_No, Luthor had done something much worse and Superman didn't know who he loathed more for that: Lex or himself. So, no, definitely, a bit of rudeness to J'onn and Stewart and his own needs not tied to those of Wally's hardly mattered._

Superman also didn't care that he'd just spent more time than strictly necessary fluffing pillows and smoothing down sheets...while using his x-ray vision to check for the umpteenth time that the red-haired man had no broken bones. What he did find (already had guessed earlier) was disquieting enough.

Superman hadn't realized until now the true depths of Lex's depravity and hate for Clark's friends. Truly, Luthor had done Wally no favors in keeping him alive for half a year. The revelation was another green knife twist in The Man of Steel's gut.

How could anyone believe he'd wished The Flash ill?

Clark had always liked Wally. The speedster was irritating at times...but nice and usually cheerful and optimistic.

What was he thinking?

He was the mightiest of the non-magical beings on Earth; the last Kryptonian of the once lofty House of El. Why did he feel so confused, adrift?

Powerless?

Satisfied that for now he'd done all he could for Flash, Kent let out a rumbling growl that turned into a slightly louder groan. He rested his palms against the sides of the bed and contemplated the pale face outlined against a mop of hair that was normally lit by ginger highlights when West was bare headed. Usually complimented by a big grin to go with it all. Now the hair was vermilion dark and lank from perspiration.

That wasn't right. Once Wally was awake, Clark would wash it for him. With his own hands. He wasn't going to let the man feel neglected ever again.

J'onn observed the whole one-sided interaction in silence. It was somewhat disturbing to see Clark act this way: the sight of the helpless man and the strongest of the Founders in this scenario was putting J'onn in mind of a possessive lioness over it's wounded cub. He knew others might see a vulture laying claim to prey. The Martian considered it was in all probability a good thing the medical staff had been kicked out for the time being or they'd likely take it the second way. It was going to be hard enough dealing with Stewart without needing to douse fires of disquiet amongst the infirmary crew.

"He needs a hair cut."

J'onn ignored the irrelevant observation for what it was and tentatively placed a hand on top of Superman's broad shoulder; ready to become incorporeal should the other strike out. (The Kryptonian was so quick to anger these days.) Everyone was stressed to the breaking point, though. Having Wally back would be a relief and yet add to their turmoil.

"Kal-El...we both know the truth. Yes, we were all at fault. However, you must take into consideration-"

"He had him there the _whole_ time, J'onn." Clark bared his teeth at the Martian's presence, the scattering of beeping medical equipment, the whole bloody, godforsaken Watchtower...but mostly at his own ineffectualness as he continued to stare at the sleeping face before him. "The whole _flipping_ time, Luthor had him- _and I didn't know!_ "

"Yes, and how could you or any of us know?" J'onn risked a firmer grip on the hard muscle lying under colorful cloth and gave a squeeze meant for reassurance. "Lex covered his places with lead. Painted the walls yellow. Used every possible means he could hypothesis to thwart our senses and keep us out of what he does not want us to see. What could you have done short of tearing each and every one of LexCorp's properties to the ground?"

"That's _exactly_ what I should have done," Superman hissed. He gave a shudder before bowing his head with shame. "You didn't see it, J'onn. I didn't have much time to either-because the damned place was literally flying into space when I got to him, but it was enough." He looked up. The circles around his irises were tinged red. "He kept him like a dog. There was a kennel cage with his name on it...a water dish...a..." his fingers unknowingly tore into the bedding; ripping up bits of foam, cotton sheets and a thin polyester blanket like they were rice paper "...a litter box." The large hands came away with fistful's of the bedding's mangled materials. "He was a goddamn _pet_ , J'onn!" Kent stared at the abused material in his hands. "I wish this was Luthor's innards."

"Kal..."

"He's been _ra-_ -" Superman breathed in sharply, unable to say the actual word. "His metabolism undoubtedly repaired the...scarring right away, but I can smell residues of..of...and..." Clark nearly gulped back a scream "There's a friggin computer chip lodged in the base of his spine! I can see it, J'onn, but just like everything else that happened to him I was powerless to do anything about it! It could be rigged to kill or paralyze him if removed. It could be relaying his position to that _bastard_ right now."

"The surgeons will remove..."

Superman's fist came down on a table, sending bedding bits flying and leaving a serious dent in the piece of furniture.

"Damn it, I don't want anyone else touching him- _ever!_ "

J'onn closed his eyes at the frustration Kent was exuding, taking a moment to deal with his own-latest-source of anxiety.

Fortunately, Superman had only his corporeal senses to go by-extraordinary enough by Earth standards as that was. He'd found the physical evidence, but J'onzz had caught a hint of the _psychological_ damage. If Clark found out the extent of what his oldest rival had done he'd go on a rampage that would result in devastation; not resting until he had found and killed Lex Luthor. That might be...no, it _would be_ emotionally satisfying, but would also further add to the League's deterioration. There were too few of them now. If nothing else, they needed all the metas available to guard Wally from Luthor and the public and they needed the heroes to be sane while doing it. It was only a matter of time before keen minds figured out what Superman had hidden away as he flew to the Watchtower. Luthor, J'onzz was sure, would already be moving to take political advantage of this.

 _Psychological damage_ was something the Manhunter didn't want to bring up to Superman until he knew more; however, there was no time to spare for that. Not with the GPS chip merrily working in Wally's body like a flaring beacon and the medical staff undoubtedly fueling the rumor mills that Flash was possibly alive.

J'onzz tried one last time...pressed a bit harder into Wally's unconscious defenses only to be stopped yet again by words set to a lilting pattern that J'onn recognized as one of the many varieties of human music. The same song phrases repeated over and over every time he tried to contact West's mind. He shuddered at the one part in particular, wondering if Wally was replaying this particular song because of what events he last remembered happening around him...or knowing it rattle J'onn would push the telepath out.

Superman saw the look of distress on the Martian's face; his anger mellowed a bit by this new concern. "What is it?"

"Nothing I can decipher as yet," J'onzz hedged.

Clark's tone hardened again at the perceived brush off. "If it concerns Wally, I need to know _. I demand_ to know everything. I swear, J'onn, don't even try me on this!"

"A song," J'onn explained, saying nothing of what else he'd felt...not yet. "He's thinking of a song. Over and over; the same one. It's about being alone...and a lonely flight into space." At Clark's puzzled expression, J'onn reached out and let Superman into his mind enough to hear the only thing he could now discern coming from Wally:

_"She packed my bags last night...pre-flight.  
Zero hour nine a.m.  
And I'm gonna be high...as a kite by then.  
I miss the Earth so much; i miss my wife.  
It's lonely out in space. On such a timeless flight._

_And I think it's gonna be a long, long, time  
Till touch down brings me 'round again to find  
I'm not the man they think I am at home  
Oh, no no no-I'm a Rocket Man;  
Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone."_

J'onn closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to reveal pained orbs as he broke the connections. The rest of the song brought back too painful- _personal_ -memories that he was sure were aimed directly at him.

"I believe Flash thinks he is still in LexCorp, about to die a martyr's death...there in the vacuum...alone. Yet in sensing me trying to contact him just now...he desires to shut me out."

_Oh._

Superman's gaze softened as he recognized the song lyrics and which ones followed. He winced in sympathy for his fellow alien's plight as well as the depths of Wally's despair if West was doing this on purpose.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you."

" _Are_ you? I am not. He is concentrating on keeping me away with that music as a shield; but to save me from experiencing his death...or out of spite for abandoning him to slavery?"

"We didn't abandon him!" Clark yelled, then caught himself. He sat down heavily, gripping his head with both hands; adding more quietly as if it were a plea, "We didn't abandon him. Not willingly." He groaned. "I wish Bruce had never said anything. Why did he have to confide in me? Why? If he'd only kept quiet, I'd never have considered Wally for the mission."

"We thought we were helping."

J'onn looked away. He always gave the same answer to Clark's plea for time to turn back to before it was too late. There was no other to give; not now and not for the many times in the preceding months. What had happened.. _.happened_. They couldn't change it.

_Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids.  
In fact it's cold as hell.  
And there's no one there to raise them...if you did._

The Martian looked down at the sleeping man. Perhaps when they explained, Wally would find it in his heart to forgive them as he'd always done before.

_And all the science, I don't understand.  
It's just my job five days a week.  
A Rocket Man...a Rocket Man..._

Somehow, J'onn doubted that would be the case this time.

After half a year's passing, the dwindled League had finally found and rescued the missing Wally West. Flash would wake and think he was safe to recuperate and return to missions as normal. J'onn dreaded that moment, for he did not know how to tell him...that it wasn't so simple.

More, he feared that he wouldn't be able to tell him-period; that The Flash had been irrevocably changed by the year's past events and wouldn't understand.

He had to confide the rest to Clark. Eventually, the Kryptonian would find out anyway and be angry at J'onn for not saying anything sooner even for all it would emotionally kill Superman to hear it.

"Superman...there's something else. Something I felt before Flash blocked me out. Something you and Batman need to know."

* * *

It was approximately twelve hours after the Metropolis incident that had shocked the populace.

In the Batcave, Bruce Wayne watched the footage of the LexCorp building again and again until Zatanna finally contacted him.

"Well?"

The female magician sighed. "I'm sorry, Batman. We found no known trace of residue or anything even remotely like it. Whatever caused it to suddenly shoot off like that wasn't done by any magic we are familiar with."

"Thank you, Zatanna."

"Batman, even if it was him..."

"Goodbye, Zatanna." He clicked off the communicator and slumped into his chair, watching the footage loop again.

One year. It had only been one year since that day in Central City. The classified _Incident_ then everything had become twisted like a pretzel and shot to hell.

The brooding Dark Knight ineloquently summed it all up with one four-letter word.

"Fuck..."

A flashing light signaled another call. Bruce actually considered for a moment not answering it; but though ignorance right now might be looked upon as bliss, long experience said it could prove disastrous later. He switched on the private line set up between he and the other two.

"Code: Twas brillag. Password...Jabberwocky."

"Code: Has thou slain the Jabberwock? Password...White Rabbit."

"Borogroves...Password...Cheshire Cat."

Bruce grimaced, squelching the little heart flip in his chest at what their calls meant _._

_(Hey, hey, the gangs all here...)_

"I take it 'My Wayward Son' has been found?"

"Yes," the _White Rabbit_ sounded pained.

"And?"

"My Son has...he's the March Hare."

Batman swallowed, immediately understanding Clark's veiled meaning. He really didn't need _Cheshire Cat_ to audibly spell it out by adding...

"He's insane."

* * *

A day had gone by and it was all the news outlets talked about: LexCorp, Luthor, meta humans.

Shayera Hol watched her lover, John Stewart of the Green Lantern Corp, pace angrily around her quarters as she sat on their bed. He'd been ranting about Superman and his arbitrary declaration that nobody save himself, J'onn, and Batman were to see or talk to Wally West until further notice. He hadn't even concretely allowed that they _had_ Wally, but everyone knew it because these days the only things that got Superman's feathers ruffled into disarray were connected to either Flash or Luthor...and Luthor was there on TV looking as charismatic as ever.

Which meant it had to be Wally they'd hidden in the infirmary.

"They must have a reason." It felt strange to be the sensible one in this. Normally, it would be John restraining her from recklessly letting her mace do her arguing for her. Warring with words were not as satisfying as smacking something.

"Oh, I'm sure there is," John grumbled. "I'm certain that they have a _dozen_ perfectly reasonable explanations as to why only they can see him."

Shayera rubbed her forehead in an an expression of her tiredness, a habit all the Founders had seemed to gain of late. "I thought you believed Superman about what happened. J'onn stood up for him. Batman did. We agreed to stay and follow their lead as a team. Now that Wally is safe..."

"He's not safe." John glared at the TV.

"Damn it-I know that! I was sitting there beside you when the newscast came on. I meant _safer_."

"I wasn't talking about _his_ safety." He heard Shayera mutter that her 'little brother' wouldn't hurt anyone intentionally and went over to crouch before her. "Look, Shay, I know Wally wouldn't purposely do anything to hurt a fly..." He smirked, "Well, unless it was an evil mutant or something. But we have to keep this in perspective. This is a whole new ball game for him. He could... _do_ something without realizing it." John sat down heavily beside her on the bed. "You...you didn't see what I saw. The whole building...every last bit of it down to the foundation...taking off towards the sun like a guided missile."

She rolled her eyes. "I _saw_. They've been playing it over and over on the TV." Shayera bit her lip.

"It could all be a lie, John. I know what Question leaked to us, but he's been wrong before even when it looked like he had it pegged." She growled at him, tossing a cushion at his face. "I can't believe you doubt our best friends." Her 'attack' was easily batted aside.

"Who can be sure of anything anymore? A year ago...the world thought the League were heroes. Now they give a ready ear to the likes of Luthor while giving us the evil eye."

"And you're not?" Shayera got up and stalked away from him. "Lex Luthor-blatantly courting the Presidency-is making Flash out to be the worst menace the world has ever known."

"Luthor wouldn't have anyone's ear if Superman hadn't been accused of being a Judas."

"Question, again!" Shayera glared at the ceiling. "I'm tempted to see if bruises will appear on that mask of his. That idiot is the real menace! He spouts some sort of superficial evidence and won't name the source. One of the human staff overhears. Of course the media lapped it up like the ratty thernurgles they are..." Her wings flared in agitation. "The League was not some sort of mafia then or now nor is Wally some version of Brainiac reborn!"

"Then its high time the three of them should stop acting so damned clandestine and let us see Flash before the rest of us take the cue from the others and leave as well," Stewart retorted. "Maybe Question was right to go AWOL. I can't even honestly think of this as a League anymore." He got up and stormed out of the room to either find one of The Three or break into the medical ward they'd virtually imprisoned The Flash in. "I want answers from The Triumvirate or Wally himself and I'm damned well going to get them."

* * *

A/N: Rocket Man lyrics were by Elton John.

How do you add Notes to a single chapter? I get the feeling they prefer all notes to be separate from the story window, but can't figure this out.

Also, this site seriously needs an individual chapter hint counter. As is I can't tell if anyone is interested in going past chapter one.

  
  



	5. What's With Superman?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know you're in trouble when the voice in your head starts making sense while the main hero of your world is scarying the shit out of you.

**Chapter 5: What's with Superman?**

* * *

_._

_I owe much to my friends; but, all things considered, it strikes me that I owe even more to my enemies. The real person springs life under a sting even better than under a caress. ~André Gide_

.

* * *

.

[Current Time: The day after the rescue: Watchtower]

When The Green Lantern arrived at the medical ward, he found the door to the more private areas still locked tight with a couple of disgruntled doctors manning the stations outside it. They were obviously wanting to get inside if their continuous glancing at the same door was any indication. They gave John a look of expectation; stares which he ignored as he was in the same predicament as they were: locked out. Trying his old Founder's key code had (unsurprisingly) failed to move the obstacle blocking his path.

"Figures."

In an attempt at subterfuge, he tried Wally's code, but got the same result: nothing.

Then inspiration struck.

Almost a year ago when Fire had dumped The Flash on the heels of John's leaving Marie, Wally had invited him to his quarters for a private pity party where they had both gotten drunk. Well, _he_ had agreed to an alcoholic drink or two and gotten only mildly so. It was Wally who had gotten smashed at regular five-minute intervals due to his metabolism. The stuff would get him drunk exceptionally fast; but would not stop there and kick in again to leave him cold sober just as quickly...forcing the speedster to repeat the process for the duration of their 'fun time'.

At any rate, during one of those few minutes of inebriation, a giggly Flash had shared with John his _"incredibly incognito-like super secret"_ Founder's code; the one he'd connived The Question into creating for him supposedly so as to be insured to have privacy from the likes of- _"say, a nosy Batman"_ -when dallying with Fire... _"who has dumped me after just one date, dammit!_ " John smiled a little, remembering and missing the much better times when Wally had been a carefree idiot with the power to make him laugh on the inside even as he was delivering a head slap on the outside.

Stewart tried imputing Wally's non-Batman-approved code and hit the Open key.

The door obediently _shwooshed_ aside on command.

John snorted with a mixture of disgust and amusement. So it was true...even Batman could not anticipate _everything_ when it had to do with The Flash.

No longer hindered, he marched in with his ring glowing an emerald light where it sat on his fist, ready to do battle with both J'onn and Superman if that was what it took. The two doctors had changed their minds about entering the ward, wisely decided to stay out of the way. Probably they were contemplating preparing to treat The Green Lantern for any Kryptonian sustained injuries or vice-a-versa.

The ward was empty except for its sole occupied bed. Not so much as a microbe protested his entry.

_'Huh...rather anticlimactic, eh, John?'_

Somewhat relieved despite his conviction to get answers, The Green Lantern lowered his ring. He hurried over to where Wally lay and sat on a chair that had been positioned close to the bed. The seat was still warm which told him that Superman must have only just left before John had arrived. This meant there might be anywhere from minutes to just mere seconds of quiet with his old buddy before Clark and/or J'onn returned to kick up a fuss about his presence.

_'Oh my...'_

As Superman had before him, John decided the speedster's skin was rather too pale; his wan complexion not being helped by the darkened hair sticking to his face. Pity it was in need of some care as John thought the slightly longer hair style matched the speedster's more carefree nature just as his own military cut suited his status in the Green Lantern Corp. If Wally wasn't in such a straight right now, he'd undoubtedly be turning heads for the right reason rather than the wrong one.

Maybe Superman and J'onn had been correct to demand Wally be left alone to recuperate. He looked utterly exhausted-like he would sleep through an explosion. It was disappointing, but Q&A time with The Flash would have to be postponed. Still, he didn't want to leave so soon. It had been _a year_ , damn it. A month thinking the insufferable twat was likely dead and then another eleven feeling sure of it because Wally...well, John had difficulty picturing Flash surviving being held captive for longer than a few weeks. The boredom alone should have killed him.

John cautiously laid a hand on the clammy forehead, stroking it with feather light touches and contemplating the rather complicated situation. He felt torn on what to think as Wally had been his best friend in the League since...practically since there was a League. On the other hand, The Question had some backed-up proof that Wally was dangerous to all life on Earth, more if he should manage to start planet hopping. John agreed with Shayera that The Question was not the most balanced in mind of their contacts, but if he was that wrong then why had the Triumvirate been acting so strange about The Flash both just before his disappearance and now that he was back? Why had a building suddenly defied gravity with only a previously AWOL Wally on board? The whole thing really did smack of the old Luthor/Brainiac/Lords prophecy. Despite what Shayera didn't want to acknowledge, that incident had come hideously close to happening. In a way it had...Flash had been considered dead by most and look how long it had taken for The Three to take control of the remaining League. Now Wally was back yet might as well be dead for all the good it would do for returning things to the way they were. Just too much had happened.

"Wow...kid," John sighed to the still form beside him, "looks like another fine mess you've gotten yourself into."

"Sorry, Ollie..." came a drowsy mutter in response. Despite the gravity of the situation, the old comedy team reference wrested a grin from Stewart. Come what may, some part of The Flash would always remain _Wally_.

"Right color; wrong super hero."

Ginger lashes fluttered open to let the familiar pair of eyes locate and focus on him. "John?"

"Hey, Hotshot. Nice to see you back where you belong." Wally glanced around without lifting his head and ventured a guess.

"Watchtower hospital ward?" he rasped out.

John nodded, still absently stroking the man's forehead and damp hair. "The private Flash suite. You're favorite hang out."

The green eyes looked confused. "I'm-not dead?"

"That's what all these digital displays seem to say."

"Oh." Wally closed his eyes for two ticks of the second hand. "Why?"

"Because you've apparently as many lives as a cat and your _skinny butt_ hasn't managed to get kicked _nine_ times to Sunday yet."

Wally raised an eyebrow at The Green Lantern's flippancy, reaching for one of the sealed pouches of nutrient-enhanced water since John wasn't offering him one. He popped the straw's seal with his teeth.

"You've kept track of my butt kickings?" he asked between long sips.

"You know it, kid."

Wally smirked, but it looked as worn down as the rest of him. "Then...if I'm not dead and we're in the Watchtower's band-aid dispenser section with you conveniently here...does this mean I get to do some butt kicking too?"

John paused. "Yeah, if you feel you need to." Wally noted the dark shadow that fell over John's eyes and the wary tone of his reply. So far the mystery voice was silent on John; regardless, Wally had his own axe to grind with The Green Lantern and The Justice League.

"Good...so now that's settled...how about _really_ answering question #4?"

"Question #4?"

"Yeah...came after #3." Once playful eyes took on an air of indignation. " _Why_ was my skinny butt a guest of _Luthor's_ for so damned long? Huh?" The crumpled-up remains of the water pouch hit John on the head. "And stop touching me, John. I don't like it." The fingers left his brow and forelock as if they were on fire as the startled Green Lantern drew back in his seat.

The emptied pouch had fallen to the floor, unhindered. Stewart picked it up and accurately lobbed it into a nearby trash receptacle, lips pursed in thought. He was stung by Wally's reaction. Oh, he'd expected some anger from his friend. After all, the meta was human; however, Wally had never given him the evil eye before...and _meant_ it. (The Flash rarely vented any displeasure and when he did it was with a quick apology afterward as he couldn't stand there to be any strife between the team.)

Also-as much as he wanted answers-West really did not look up to giving them. Or receiving them either. John considered that some of Wally's surly attitude might stem from the way he must be feeling physically beaten down. The speedster was in essence a cranky child right now, stuck in a hospital bed when he'd rather be out to play.

The Green Lantern frowned. Where the heck had that last bit come from? He hadn't entertained such denigrating thoughts since his Flash had near single handily smashed the symbiotic Brainiac from Lex Luthor.

Maybe Wally wasn't the only one feeling tired and not at his best?

"Kid, we both want answers to stuff, but maybe this isn't the time. Right now you really don't look well. You need to rest."

"Will everyone stop telling me that?" the red-head grumbled. "I'm fine. Even if some of the _hot_ has gone out of my hotshot energy levels, I'm still ready to burn more rubber than the average Joe." Wally shifted a shoulder in what John guessed was an attempt at a shrug. "Plus, I'm told by all these fancy Lite-Brite machines that I'll live, so we can disregard any mortality issues. So let's talk about _abandonment_ ones instead. Like-" He stopped talking and tilted his head as if listening to something John was not privy to.

_"Don't touch him!"_

* * *

John half turned in the chair to see Superman standing at the doorway to the medical supply room. He was holding a large bowl of water in one hand and a bottle of shampoo in the other with a towel draped across one arm. For a split second Stewart thought Clark looked scared, then anger filled the alien's visage at the same time that emotion was leeched from Wally's. Superman tossed the items he had down on the bed (most of the water sloshing out onto the linen from the sudden motion) and before John could raise a defense, incredibly strong hands were lifting him up by the front of his uniform and bodily hauling him towards the exit.

"Get _out_ of here, Lantern." It was not a request; it was a growled command. One not to be taken lightly.

John, however, was feeling a bit bent on taking it just so. He futilely tugged at he bruising grip on front. "Why?"

"Because you're not wanted here."

Cursing, Stewart twisted his hand around so as to better position the Lantern ring's facing at Superman's head. He'd been about to leave on his own, but now that Superman was back and _ordering_ him to go...his reason for coming in the first place returned full force. Superman grabbed his wrist, squeezing until they both felt the bones rubbing protesting.

"I was talking with Wally, not _you_." John refused show the pain the pressure on his wrist was giving him.

"Use that ring and I'll break it as well as every bone in your hand."

Knowing he was both serious and powerful enough to do it, The Green Lantern let the light in his ring die down, but still did his best to slow his coming ejection from the room.

"Why are The Triumvirate only allowed to see him? Why don't you tell us what's going on? Damn it, Clark, talk to me! We were friends once and not that long ago." He noted with thanks that the red fire dancing in Superman's eyes receded.

"Wally is not well enough to see visitors," Superman grunted, just a tiny bit apologetic. "He's been through an ordeal and nearly died. That's all you or anyone else needs to know right now."

"I can see that. Which brings up another issue... Why are the doctors also being kept out? They need to treat the kid's injuries-and don't tell me he doesn't have any. Doesn't take a Batman to figure out he was held by _Luthor_ for Oa's sake. If he had Wally he could have done anything to-"

"He's _mine_ now! I'm not ever letting him go!" Superman snapped, eyes tinging scarlet again. John's own widened in surprise. Yes, things had been tense lately even to the point that Clark had just moments ago threatened to destroy his Lantern ring, but surely Superman wasn't about to...

Clark blinked, rubbing his eyes with one hand; yet even so still did not turn The Green Lantern loose. "He's not well enough yet. If he is- _when_ he is, we'll let you know."

Before he was shoved back outside, John caught a glimpse of Wally's ashen face. The Flash looked twice as terrified as John felt and that just made Stewart feel all the more anxious about what was going on.

If Superman was breaking under the strain John couldn't very well let Flash be alone with him. One ill-timed crack from the Scarlet Speedster might see Wally's brain fried. Something had to be done, but what? John doubted that either J'onn or Batman would be of any help as they had been acting odd as well. Shayera's aid was doubtful what with her sudden loyalty to the Triumvirate. No...he needed someone else to aid him in helping Wally. Someone not directly under The Triumvirate's command who was not cowed by their power to the point of being ineffective. After that they could look into whether anything should be done about helping Wally coexist with the increasingly hostile world.

* * *

No sooner did Superman have the doors closed again then he gave into an impulse and melted the lock with his heat vision. Now _nobody_ was getting in save J'onn until a tech could replace the lock. He breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of Wally being safe from the outside. Resting a hand on the door's steel frame, Clark opened a communication to Batman, requesting (rather brusquely) that he find out how Lantern had gotten in and fix the security breach _asap or else_. That settled, he turned around with a faked smile on his face to confront an obviously unnerved Wally West.

"Sorry about that. Nobody was supposed to disturb you until your recovery was complete." Noticing the sodden bedding and items around Wally's legs, he blushed and avoided the frightened man's eyes upon realizing that he was at fault for both.

Oh heck...the water bowl! Superman castigated his thoughtlessness. He'd been so upset to see Stewart inside with Wally, he'd just _thrown it down_ without thinking. Naturally, the water had splashed out of the metal container. The resulting wetness and that look in Wally's eyes made it appear as if The Flash had...

Well, after witnessing the spectacle of the Man of Steel losing control, Clark supposed it was rather fortunate that it _was_ just plain water and sweat spreading on the sheets and not something truly humiliating for the speedster.

So much for comforting the human.

He'd fix it.

He'd do better.

Prove himself.

"I...I'm sorry...I..," Clark quickly gathered up the bottle and bowl to set them on a side table. "I'll make it better, I swear." It took some minutes of awkwardness, but Superman managed to wrestle in another cot, place new bedding on it, and transfer Wally over to the dry set without disturbing the medical equipment overmuch. The speedster said nary a word during the whole operation, only flinching when the Kryptonian gathered him up for the transfer even though Superman kept up a steady stream of soothing noises. Clark cast about for a handy faucet and refilled the bowl, this time using his heat vision to warm the water rather than going back to the microwave kept in the supply room.

"It's a good thing the scanners sensed you awakening or I might not have gotten back here for another five minutes," Clark told him in an effort to make small talk. "J'onn would have been here with you, but he's Earthside looking for signs of...of...well, you don't need to worry about it. We're taking care of anything of any concern."

Water now at what Clark figured was just about the perfect temperature for a human, Clark set it down and carefully pushed the bed out enough so he could stand behind the reposing speedster.

Wally was back and in his personal care.

Everything was going to be swell.

* * *

This was not the homecoming the befuddled speedster had once envisioned.

Providence knew he'd had lots of time to indulge in a whole unabridged Santa Clause's list of envisioning rescue and its aftermath and this _...this volatile_ _Florence Nightingale Superman_ was so not even on the footnote of the list of his envisioning.

Wally swallowed thickly as Clark's hands worked around the bed's headboard area where he couldn't see what they were about to do. It was too much like Luthor's actions and the mirrored words about being _owned_ just added to his disquiet. That was scary enough without what he had just been witnessed here. _(I can't believe that Supes has actually threatened GL!)_ Then the intimations that something was seriously wrong with the League. And just what the hell was The Triumvirate?

The voice's warning about Clark kept running through Wally's thoughts and he was beginning to give them some credit. That was the worst thing of all as he'd always seen Superman as the _hero's_ hero. It was like part of the universe's DNA code: _If you were good and true then you should never need be afraid of Big Blue._ At least, that's what his Uncle Barry had told him and Barry Allen had known Superman for years before Wally had been introduced to The Man of Steel.

Wally tried to turn his head, but found that although his muscles did not feel as drained as they had while in LexCorp, he still felt sluggish. A flex of his wrist confirmed that he was also bound to the bed with skin-fitting restraints. Whatever Clark had in mind for him, he wouldn't be able to stop it without resorting to something drastic.

Maybe this was all some hallucinatory after affects from the drugs and adrenaline rush? It could have been a dream. Or not.

As much as he was afraid of rocking the boat even accidentally in case he was wrong, Wally craved reassurance on what was real and that everything was really hunky dory after all. This couldn't be what it looked like. There had to be a good reason for Superman to be acting so odd. Therefore what better way to assuage his bad case of the jitters than that he should ask Superman what was up rather than just lay here like a felled log?

"Supes..what are you doing?" he nervously inquired, afraid that Clark _would_ get angry again...this time at him.

"Sshh...it's okay, Wally," Superman's voice stayed low and soothing. That alone would have calmed the antsy red head down if the lionized hero hadn't then added as if relating the latest weather forecast, "I'm just going to wash your hair for you."

"My...hair?"

Come again? _Superman_ just didn't go around washing people's-

"It's dirty. You'll feel much better with it clean." Wally felt something grasp at a lock that had fallen near his eye. "After that I'll give you a hair cut. It's too long...uncontrolled." A finger slid down his ear to feel along his jawline. "You don't need a shave yet. I'll give you one tomorrow, though."

If West had been up to snuff, he would have been vibrating in fright. Just now he could only muster normal human tremors while trying not to gape like a fish.

Sweet Circes and the entire Pantheon of Psychotic Gods-this.. _this was surreal!_ When had Superman become the League barber? _Scratch that..._ when had Superman ever expressed a _preference_ for his hair length? It wasn't like The Fastest Man Alive ran around the Watchtower with his head uncovered like it was normal for him to do so because only the other Founders and a couple chosen friends knew his secret identity. At best, Clark had only seen him that way once or twice. (Wally couldn't suppress a small whimper at the sudden idea that struck him: _unless_ he'd been using his x-ray vision to watch Wally or anyone else in the buff?

No.. _NO!_ Superman did not do that kind of stuff! _He_ might be tempted...a little?...but _not_ Superman. Supes was blinking Superman, Hero Extraordinaire; neither young and hormonal like yours truly or a patented pervert like Lex Luthor.

Just like he wasn't the League's barber?

_'Crap! My head hurts. This is a nightmare.'_

"Clark...I don't-"

"It's okay. I cut my own all the time and that's with having to use mirrors. Used to do Pa's too when he got sick." He smiled the same smile of old...which just made the situation all the more surreal.

"How...reassuring," Wally trembled more as the large hands took hold of his head so as to position the bowl under it. He felt the warm wetness leech around his scalp and closed his eyes as panic momentarily overwhelmed him.

Conversely, he couldn't stop his mouth from opening to spout nervous blather. It was a natural reflex.

"Really, Supes, I can do it myself. Honestly, I'm a big boy now. Legal and everything. Can drink, drive, _wash my own hair_." He had to swallow a tiny whimper there. "The junk they put in me should be dissipating within the hour. I'm good. This is _really_ not necessary. You must have a ton of more important things to do."

Superman frowned. "Nothing is more important than taking care of you, Wally. I won't hurt you. I'm not like _him_." The sneer in his voice made it plain he was referring to Luthor. He started lathering the red hair with the promised gentleness. "I'd never hurt my...you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Wally gulped and realized as soon as the word left his mouth that it was the first real lie he'd ever said to Superman. He wasn't sure at all...not with Supes acting so out of character _._ That whimper he'd just pushed down his throat was knocking at his tonsils demanding exit.

"Then quiet down and relax so I can concentrate on this."

_'Relax...relax...relax...'_

Flash suffered through the head grooming as quietly as he could manage-mostly by keeping his eyes closely shut as laser vision was used to trim his hair length. He wasn't even nicked by the beams, but having to stay silent when he was so edgy was torture. As Clark created an improvised blow dryer by first rubbing his hands to a rosy glow and then blowing the resultant heat onto Wally's damp head, the speedster couldn't take it anymore.

"Supes...about what happened at..."

"We don't need to worry about it." Clark interrupted him. "I'm going to take care of my Wally."

How special. Well, really not all that much because...

"That's nice, Supes, but I like being as independ..." His eyes widened. "What did you just say?"

_-Wally NOT Trust Clark... NOT TRUST-_

Whimpering a little, Wally willed the voice to shut up so he could hear Superman's reply. He _had_ to have misheard that. Superman wouldn't say that.

"Maybe when you're well," Superman shifted around to inspect his handiwork with a critical eye, using his fingers to smooth back errant hairs while ignoring the question.

* * *

_There now._

Wally's hair style was back to how it was when Luthor had stolen him away. Just the way he liked it. There was only one other thing that wasn't right. (His hand slid over the corner the blanket and sheet, bunching the combined fabric in one hand, arm muscles preparing to contract.)

_Easily fixed._

"I'm well enough _now_ ," his patient not so patiently complained. "My ears and mind work fine. As for the rest of me, I told you, I'll be running warmup laps around the Pacific Rim just as soon as the drugs wear-" an increasingly anxious Wally saw the flinch that creased the skin around Clark's eyes. The unworldly blue irises seemed to focus more on his surroundings rather than just Wally's body...which was something of a relief because that had been starting to freak the young man out.

Wally did a quick mental backtrack over what he'd just told The Man Of Steel that might have gotten such a reaction. When he'd finished he asked in a small voice:

"I _am_ fine...aren't I?"

Wally felt fine. Just a little tired now. He could even sense the strength returning to his limbs as the drugs were pushed from his system allowing his metabolism to also repair almost everything else all at once. Yet Superman was not acting like he thought Wally was okay. Maybe it wasn't so much Supes who was acting weird as it was _he_ who was not seeing things right?

Maybe he was dying after all.

Or was being claimed by insanity.

_-Wally good...Clark is Threat-_

Case in point for scenario #2 was a random voice in his head.

"Well talk about it when J'onn comes back." Superman said as his 'friendly' expression fading into a blank look.

* * *

Clark stared at the hand that was clenching the top sheet and blanket corner. Frowning, he relaxed it, letting the material settle back down upon the bed. He wondered why he'd had the sudden urge to leave Wally exposed to the open air. There was no reason to do so and it would have been at the very least a rotten thing to do.

At least the speedster hadn't noticed. He didn't want to risk scaring the poor man further than he already had.

_'This was all Green Lantern's fault. If he hadn't come in and disturbed Wally, I wouldn't have gotten upset and caused him further distress. A pity J'onn is so adamant that we need all the remaining metas here. Things would go smoother if it was just me and Wally living in the Watchtower while the rest stayed away.'_

* * *

"Supes.." Wally, hesitantly began, "you don't think I'm...losing it do you? I mean, I keep-"

_-CLARK IS THREAT...WALLY NOT TRUST...NOT TRUST CLARK-_

"Flash? What's wrong? You can tell me. I've got a sympathetic ear." He smiled the familiar Clark smile.

"Uh...nothing," Wally felt embarrassed by the idea he might be mentally off after his ordeal with Luthor and that he was believing ill of Superman. He didn't want his idol thinking any less of him then he probably did already. "I keep reflecting on what happened at Luthor's is all."

Superman patted his knee, expression distracted. "You'll get better, Flash. Just rest. You're safe here."

"Yeah...okay. I am kind of tired. Thanks for the hair wash and cut...I'd leave you a tip, but I must have left my wallet at home." His attempt to diffuse the situation worked as Superman smiled down at him.

"You're welcome, Wally. I'll just lower the lights and let you get some sleep." ' _I think I could use some shut eye too. Things will look better to both of us after a good night's rest.'_

He did as he said, leaving West alone in the darkened room.

* * *

The speedster didn't sleep though. How could he after all of that? Instead he pondered on everything.

"Am I insane? Or is it Supes?"

_-Wally is well...Clark Bruce J'onn Threat-_

_'Says the crazy one to himself'_ , Wally thought in his misery. "Wait...what about John?"

_-John not threat...Now-_

"So John is safe?" That would be helpful; John being his superhero'ing amigo and all.

_-Wally Trust None-_

Figures.

"Great. You, know, you sound a bit like The Question."

_-Question knows Wally-_

"Wow..a new word...and that's not cryptic at all," Wally sighed aloud with mild sarcasm tinging every carbon dioxide molecule of it. "Well, one things for certain, I'm not likely to get any answers here. Supes thinks I'm barmy and am in need of Xtreme TLC. Maybe he's right, I don't know, but he's really scaring the shit out of me; although that might just be because I scared the shit out of him what with my little trip into space."

_-Wally Not..-_

"Save it."

Darn reality. His life needed a map to help navigate it.

No matter what the truth was, he really didn't like being held down like this. "I'm getting up."

Wally closed his eyes and concentrated on his limb muscles, vibrating them at different frequencies until the synthetic fabric restraints burst open from the strain. He sat up, grabbing the sheet then thinking better of it. Just who was he going to be keeping any returning modesty with by taking it along? Once he escaped the medical ward, he'd simply run at speeds only another speedster could register and get some clothes. Flapping sheets would only get tangled around his legs as he made a dash for his quarters. Wouldn't _that_ be a riot if he crashed and fell in front of everyone wearing nothing but a tangled sheet? Better to keep his footing without the cloth and be so fast nobody saw anything but a beige blur anyway.

Heck, he'd never dared play such a game as streaker before. Why not live a little?

He made his way to the door.

Waited for it to open.

Waited.

Waited...

Oh. Yeah. Supes had melted the lock. Problem there.

_-Wally is speed-_

"You mean I can just vibrate through it? I know that, oh, Voice Of My Dreams, but it would explode like the restraints did. Stuff doesn't take kindly to my hyperactivity and then Batman would get pissed and take it out of my allowance."

_-Wally is SPEED-_

"Right...motion." He thoughtfully rubbed at his newly shortened hair, thinking the problem over. "Accelerate. Decelerate. But if I goof this up, you're paying for the damages. Last thing I need is a bill special delivered by a Batarang with my name on it."

_-CLARK THREAT WALLY-_

Startled by the sheer urgency in the voice, Wally whirled around to see a large figure approaching in the darkness with something flowing moving at it's back.

It had red, glowing eyes.

_Oh no. no no no._

Wally backed up a step to press against the door, mind flashing back to the dark snake things with their prejudice against the sun (and presumably The Beach Boys) and how a dark-snake-thing-possessed Superman had toyed with him like a cat with a mouse. _Was that what was going on? Have the evil snake thingies returned?_

God, it _was_ Superman and he sure didn't resemble the poster boy for Goodness and Truth.

_Oh, for a mega-kilowatt flashlight!_

Superman stepped forward, eying the nude speedster with a leer of open appreciation on his twisted face that made Wally grab for the nearest sheet and wrap it around his torso as fast as he could despite the fat lot of good that would do. He'd bet his life Clark had the x-ray vision turned on.

Full max.

"Ginger and spice and everything nice. Going somewhere, _my Wally_?"

  
  



	6. Run!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most days Flash enjoys running.  
> This is not most days.  
> Not even close.

**Chapter 6: Run!**

* * *

_._

_You can't run away from trouble. There ain't no place that far. ~Uncle Remus_

_._

* * *

.

 _Run away, Run away, run away and save your life.  
Run away, run away, run away if you want to survive._  
-excerpt from Run Away by the Real Mccoy

.

[Current Time: The Watchtower]

If this had been a garden-variety _bad-vibes_ situation he was in, Wally would have sped out of there so fast that the attacker would be left staring at displaced air molecules while the safely-now-miles-away speedster called for some major backup: preferably from Superman _with_ Wonder Woman. (Maybe Batman thrown in for good measure and some pretty cool pyrotechnics on account that Flash loved a good fireworks show a much as the next testosterone-laden guy.) In a more normal scenario the would-be bad ass would be flat out on the ground from multiple punches-both physical and verbal-all delivered within a second's time.

It was common knowledge that using his legs and mouth were how Flash coped with adversity. John Stewart had referred to it as his _flight or fight_ reflex. Running was just Wally's natural forte.

This situation, though, wasn't normal.

This was way nowhere within the same international date line of normal what with this being a Psycho Superman that Wally was being over matched by and who was approaching steadily from the front while at his rear was a locked door. (Let us not forget those potentially painful eye lasers that kept him neatly corralled between said door and Scary Superman when Wally even so much as thought of shifting his weight to one side in hopes of pushing every button in the room until he hit the alarm.

_Insert here the perfect time for Batman to cel-line in for the rescue, preferably holding batarangs made of kryptonite._

_Oh. Crud._

Never before had Wally considered just how huge the alien was compared to him.

Okay, he _had_ , but always in the context of gratitude that Big Blue was there to back him up.

In a manner of speaking Superman was still _backing him up_ only in a totally different way than Wally was comfortable with.

Well to be brutally literal he really wasn't being backed up because the door was pretty much already in contact with his butt to begin with so-

With only a few steps Psycho Superman was upon him, leaving a terrified Wallace West with his backside trapped against the metal of the door...and still nary a Bat was in sight, batarangs or no. This was unforgivably lax of The Dark Knight. (Wally was _so_ discontinuing his Batman Fan Club Membership.)

Oh Jeez, oh man, Psycho Superman was now seriously into his personal space!

Superman: a man-mountain of impervious mass and right now that abundance of muscle was cascading against him in one unstoppable motion like a primary-paint stained avalanche. If he were a super villain he'd be quaking in his boots.

Iron like hands clamped down on bare forearms then slid down to capture wrists, an iconic 'S' was pressed to a bared torso, red fabric to groin. It felt more claustrophobic than Luthor's cage had ever seemed.

Scrap the super villain part. He _was_ quaking in his boots! (Not that he was wearing any.)

In his struggle not to start hyperventilating, Wally shivered uncontrollably at the overwhelming presence only to hear Clark's rumble of pleasure from the rapid vibrations. He turned his head to the side to avoid seeing either the darkening eyes or growing erection of this truly _alien_ Superman...and let out a whimper of fear before it could be squelched.

 _'For Barry's sake, did I just_ _mewl_ _? I've faced down Lex Luthor twice-yet I'm about to lose bladder control here over one overly amorous team mate. Seriously...this is pathetic!_ Where had his vaunted self esteem run off too without him? Bermuda? And why hadn't it taken the rest of him along?'

Stupid, selfish, self esteem.

Clark bent his head so as to press his nose into the scalp he'd just washed earlier, coasting his lips over the hair. "Don't be afraid. You're my Wally," the Kryptonian growled possessively. "Mine."

If only Superman had some sort of alcohol on his breath. Then Wally would have quipped that Clark was going to make him blush so much that it would look like he was wearing his Flash suit. Then he'd help him get sober with an iced mocha or three dozen and they'd nervously laugh this off.

There was no alcohol. Just intensely irrational behavior bringing up memories of...

Severely compromised in both body and soul, Wally was at a loss as to how to react. All sense of dealing with it via his old sense of humor fled him because, really, _this_ was Lex's warped idea of sex all over again. Worse-this was his wolfish tormentor wearing a Superman guise. It was too much happening too soon to cope with even the help of some gallows humor.

He was definitely overwhelmed with only one recourse open to him...

Running.

Wally retreated into his mind to regroup.

* * *

_Shit! Superman wants me bad._

There was a time when Wally would not have been adverse to receiving this kind of attention from his idols. Maybe toned down several notches, mind, as he _was_ prone to blush and stammer whenever sex was brought up...

Not that he'd had many such proposals come his way save from the odd grateful victims he'd rescued and he'd never take advantage of their feeling of indebtedness.

_-Clark want Wally. Fear Clark wanting Wally-_

_'No shit, Sherlock.'_ Wally thought to his subconscious. (Or wherever this voice was coming from.) It wasn't like Wally _wanted_ 'Clark wanting Wally'.

Well...

Maybe a little.

To play devil's advocate, who would not feel flattered from being desired by of _any_ of the six Founders? They were bigger than life. They were the stuff of _legends_. He'd spent years as first Kid Flash and then The Flash trying to attain their respect and approval. It would be a dream come true to have someone Wally respected love him back unconditionally as both The Flash _and_ Wally West. Superman way up there on top with the select few who unquestionably held Wally's esteem in hand. He was even nearly as fast as the speedster...relatively speaking. If he had to pick someone to live with...

_-Others Not make happy-_

Okay, that hurt. Yes, the others (Superman included) thought him immature. They were difficult to please as they expected him to act and think the way they did without their considering that the perceptions of a speedster were just plain different from those who were stuck in constant slow motion. They couldn't see that it wasn't any easier for Wally to constantly modify his thinking processes to slow down for them than it would be for a normal person to perceive time as a fluid thing; yet Wally had already been adapting half way just to be able to converse with everyone in their sluggish movements. That was not enough for them. He was still considered _the child_.

_-None Here love Wally-_

Wally had to concede that point as well. People smiled (or groaned) politely at his jokes and generally cared about him in a good friendship/team buddy/"thanks for saving my keester there, super hero" sort of way. But nobody _loved_ him...not precisely in the way he imagined it. Like falling in love at first sight or finding a soul mate or some kind of overly romanticized drivel like that. It was something Wally felt he'd never get a chance to attain unless someone else got hit _just so_ by lightning and an unknown cocktail of speed-producing charged chemicals with which he and his deceased uncle Barry had been doused with. The emergence of any other free and unchaperoned fellow speed admirer being rather absent, he had no kindred soul to call his own and cuddle with on cold nights with a fire blazing in the...

_Wait! Fire... Didn't she love him?_

_-Fire Leave Wally-_

She did. (The name faded from his mind as being inconsequential even as he thought it.)

- _Wally is ALONE_ -

There was no one, Wally reluctantly agreed. No one wanted a childish hero as a life mate.

At least until Lex Luthor's whacked out idea of love came rolling in; now Superman...the meta he could have seen himself playing domestic with if it weren't for the fact that Superman loved Lois Lane and not an easily flustered red-headed motor mouth.

_Oh crap!_

_Lois Lane!_

Clark really loved the feisty reporter.

This off-the-wall possession/declaration of desire from Superman...this was _wrong_ with a capital _W_. Hell, go ahead and add on the _R.O.N.G._ The very idea of Superman enamored of The Flash was seriously fucked up and if The Fastest Man From The Neck Down didn't do something very soon it was going to get much more pointedly so for a certain young male.

_-Wally stop Clark now-_

The thought made his flesh crawl because (relatively speaking) he'd rather think about the situation than see it; however, the voice was right. He had to return to _normal_ time and stop this madness before Clark ruined his relationship with Ms. Lane.

* * *

When he 'awakened', Wally's time sense told him only seconds had transpired since he'd taken flight into his mind. A good thing as the longer this went on the harder it would be for Superman to stop acting so psycho.

"Clark," (Wally fought not to choke on or hurry his words, but knew he was going to fail miserably as his tension level was astronomical) "if you're understanding me at all...please...I...I don't want this. Not this way. Let me go. I won't say anything to anyone. I promise. Think about Lois Lane...the one who's your true significant other? What would she say?" Clark's response was to growl his claim again and pull him closer until Wally's vision amounted to part of a blurred 'S' and all he could smell was Superman's alien musk tickling his nostrils.

It wasn't even slightly arousing.

"Lois is going to die," The being who was physically a dead ringer for Supes hissed out. "Nobody else will touch you but me. I'll kill anyone who tries. You're mine. For always."

Wally felt gathering tears threaten to destroy what remained of his pride, but was too horrified to even argue with himself that they were just the result of something in his eye and not wanting to cry like a two-year old because...

Did Clark mean that Lois was mortal _or that he was going to kill her?_ The memory of the Justice Lord Superman's callous disregard for others lives had turned his blood to ice. Would his Superman resort to decorating people's foreheads with ugly tattoos out of some warped protectiveness that Wally didn't even want?

This was not how he wished to remember Superman. Not as an inhumane, jealous brute mouthing nonsense and death sentences. The speedster floundered for something more to say-anything to bring Superman back to his senses. Nothing came to mind; although he noted a very low muttering sound beginning within his head.

It sounded ominous.

"You smell so good," So- _Not_ -The-Boy-Scout smiled into Wally's scalp, brushing his lips over the hair. The alien changed the angle of his head a bit so that an open mouth traversed down Wally's ear.

"Clark...you've got to stop. Please... _please_...stop." Wally's barely held-in tears worked free as one aural canal was assaulted by a wet tongue.

_'This couldn't be happening.'_

Fingers coasting over his ass. Obviously heading where no hero had gone before.

"Hush." Superman whispered. "Going to make you feel so good."

_'Not happening. Not happening! Not happening!'_

Only it was because Superman was kissing him hard, fingers clenching rounded muscle forcing their pelvic areas to rub against each other in counterpoint for a moment before those strong hands wrapped around Wally's wrists again.

The bulge against his mid point remained in place only bigger and exuding liquid heat like melting iron.

_'Oh God...'_

Superman wasn't going to stop. He'd tried to talk with him, but Clark was clearly running on the power of super hormones or something or just plain insanity and didn't want to respond to reason or wasn't able to control himself.

No more than Wally could control his sudden feeling of foreboding that something even more hideous than his being mauled by Clark was about to happen if Superman didn't let him go very, very soon.

It wasn't just feeling fear of rape. He'd been raped plenty of times.

Granted, not by a friend.

This awareness of an ominous undercurrent within felt...worse.

On the level of apocalyptic-style worse.

Superman removed his tongue allowing his unwilling 'lover' to breathe.

Only Wally didn't. He was drowning and paralyzed by two fears...one familiar and one _not_.

"You taste like ginger spice, my little Wally. I will keep you safe with me," Superman whispered in the moistened ear, forcing another wave of shivers from the speedster. "There will be no running for you. Not from me. You can't get away." The huge hands on his wrists forced Wally's own further downward towards where Superman's...

_'No..don't do this.'_

_'I don't want this!'_

_'STOP!'_

"I'm going to protect you," Superman continued blithely unaware of Wally's rising hysteria, "and in return you are going to make me very happy."

_-PROTECT Wally...Be ready-_

_'What?'_

_-Be ready-_

The sense of dread was felt everywhere and was growing stronger. The muttering had become a constant drone like an air conditioner unit working hard in the background. Wally was afraid _for_ Superman now. He didn't know precisely what form this defensive action was going to take, only that it had been building up somewhere inside of him-possibly borne out of the same wellspring of intense desperation that had felled Brainiac-and that it was going to hurt the Kryptonian.

_A lot._

"I'm...I'm sorry," Wally breathed out an apology. _"I'm so sorry."_

_-NOW-_

Wally really wasn't a fan of horror because when you'd spent years battle horrors as your day job, who wanted to see more? That didn't mean he ignorant of some of the more classic literature. Mostly some required reading back during his school years. His American Literature teacher had especially like to assign the works of Edgar Allen Poe.

'A _succession of loud screams...'_ was a phrase that author had written to describe a scene in The Cask of Amontillado. It was, Wally thought, a very apt description for this one as well.

* * *

Wally had no idea what he'd done to cause such screams.

To be accurate he did have an _idea_ seeing as how the results had for a fraction of a split second been staring him in the face. It was just that Wally just didn't remember actually _doing_ it. Hell, he could hardly see for all the tears currently distorting his vision. His legs felt wobbly. Fear had stolen precious oxygen from his lungs leaving him oxygen deprived. He blindly reached out in front of him for support and felt his open palms connect with a smooth metal surface rather than a fabric one.

The door felt wet.

 _Wait_...the door?

Miraculously, was on the other side of the door...the barrier that had prevented him from getting away from Superman...and it was undamaged.

Whole.

Yet slippery.

Watery green eyes focused enough to see the last was because his hands were covered with blood.

That...that was impossible. Things tended to explode when he tried to slip between their molecules. Barry had been a pro at it. Wally had never really mastered the trick. Something about his molecular signature being different than his uncle's had been.

_'I'm not able to...never mind the door now. I'm bleeding and I didn't even feel the wound. Must be going into shock.'_

_-Wally not hurt...protect-_

_'I'm not? Then...'_

If the blood wasn't his then the only other one-Superman is hurt? SUPERMAN?

_'OhgodwhatdidIdo?_

_Calm down! Think! Panicking will not help me or Clark.'  
_  
Wally forced himself to breathe evenly; to remember what had occurred before he found himself on this side of his medical room.

One second he was in a waking nightmare being pawed at by Superman or something that physically seemed to be Superman...with his hands being forced towards _-_

 _-_ and he really didn't want to think more on that! What else?

Then some force from deep within was lashing out like whips of energy. Clark's inhuman screams of agony were deafening his ears. (He winced at that memory and quickly moved on to the next.)

His perceptions had been of _shifting_ through matter...seeing between molecules... _disrupting... moving... obliterating... dodging._

Again, phasing through so-called solid matter was not his forte. "How did I...?"

_-Protect Wally-_

"You?"

_-...Wally did...Help know-_

"Oh, God..."

What this real or not? He would almost be willing to find himself back in Luthor's cage if only it meant an end to this weirdness.

"M-Mark-It's _him_.. _.it's him_!"

Still confused by what had happened, Wally clutched at the sheet that had (miracles of miracles) come through with him as two Watchtower doctors stared slack jawed at the distraught man who had materialized before their eyes wearing only an item of bedding...and who appeared to be talking to himself.

"Superman..." Wally started to explain around a closing throat. He had to get Clark help. "Superman is hurt." He held up a gory hand as an additional and unvoiced explanation.

"Holy crap, Dan. _West's killed Superman_..."

"The alarm.. hit the alarm!"

Well, that was just silly. Nothing could seriously hurt Superman. Certainly not kill him. Such an act was beyond a normal meta and he was no Darkseid or Doomsday. It was all a misunderstanding.

_-Wally RUN...RUN NOW-_

Wally didn't argue. He was seriously tired again but this was no time for exhaustion. Adrenaline kicked in from some hidden source. He started running while attempting to clear his vision just as a harsh pounding started to leave fist-sized dents in the door behind him. Nor did he stop to consider how the two doctor's had known his last name.

He ran...unconsciously phasing his legs through the sheet whenever it threatened to hamper his motion.

* * *

"You don't understand. He's here and in a bad way. Superman's gone crazed 'mother hen' and I'm afraid he's going to hurt Flash once the latter's well enough to do something stupid." Stewart waited for the typed reply. "Yes it was, but I used the code you gave Flash." John waited through the string of fonts spelling out colorful curses and the expected query. (This would go so much faster if his contact wasn't such a paranoid arse who eschewed web cam vocal software.) "He told me it." A pause, then more inquiries. "Well, he _did_. Look, never mind the circumstances! Can you help or not?"

Before John could read the answer, siren blares filled his quarters. He reflexively tapped his aural communicator, feeling his stomach clench because what were the odds this _didn't_ have to do with Wally?

"Green Lantern here. What's the intruder alert for?" He listened, eyes widening in surprise. "Flash did _what_? Are you sure Flash...blood? _Superman's._.. That's..." John rubbed his forehead for a moment then noticeably switched to soldier mode. "Where was he last seen?" He listened intently. "Right. I'm on it, Shayera. Yes, I know...we can't let him escape to Earthside. Any means necessary..." John turned to go, but saw the new question form on his private laptop screen in bold white letters. His correspondent had obviously heard him through _John's_ web cam. Maybe the man had a point about the things. He decided on a whim to spare a moment more and reply.

"Flash attacked Superman without provocation and actually managed to seriously hurt him. Luthor wasn't lying...Flash has truly become insane and dangerous-as was predicted. I'm going to go help bring him down before he does kill someone."

It didn't even occur to The Green Lantern that this might be considered by The Triumvirate as information for League member ears only: a serious lapse of judgment on his part.

He had a speedster to hunt down and contain by whatever means needed.

* * *

For the most part Wally just ran without thinking about anything other than not blundering into a wall or that the sheet might trip him up or that he could barely see. The important thing was getting away from the terrifying thing that had once been Superman. Sheer instinct took him to his quarters where he again somehow managed to slip through a locked door without shattering it. Wally took a moment to will the tears to stop and clear his vision; noting absently that again only seconds had passed since he'd left the medical ward.

Good. He would need the head start.

Clothes were thrown into a knapsack without consideration of whether they matched or that smears of blood were left on them. His personal refrigerator and snack bowls were next ransacked through-some to join the clothes in his 'essentials' pack and some going straight toward his mouth...until he remembered the state of his hands and nearly gagged. He reflexively spat into a sink in case some blood had made it past his incisors, then rapidly washed his hands and ate some more- _uncontaminated_ -food. Wally immediately felt a bit better for the nourishment in his stomach. Not great, but good enough to run fast and far for a time. Once he felt safer he'd think things through. This moment was strictly labeled 'Get My Butt Out Of Dodge.'

Looked like a job for The Fastest Man Alive. Speaking of which, he needed to get _properly_ dressed.

Gold flashed in the artificial lighting as a Flash ring was hastily snatched from a drawer and slipped on. Trembling fingers activated it...and he was clothed as The Flash in the blink of an eye. The speedster went to do a quick check of himself in the closet mirror as it had been what seemed like ages since he'd last worn his uniform. What? A full year now? Hands down the worst year of his short life.

One _panicked and highly confused_ Flash looked back from the reflective surface.

"Well, mirrors don't lie," the speedster sadly agreed with his image.

_-Wally leave now...go home-_

Wally shuddered. _Home_ wouldn't do any good. Superman would follow. Slower, but with super hearing and super sight and super smell, and everything else with the adjective of _super_ that Wally wasn't blessed with. No, he had to find Batman. Or J'onn. Or Wonder Woman, or Shayera, or John. Or-hell- _anyone_ decidedly _not_ Superman before the latter located him. They'd have to somehow stop the Man Of Steel before he hurt someone.

Like Lois or a rare speedster human.

How the hell were they going to do that? How? It was fucking impregnable _Superman!_

_Who had been bloodied by him._

_"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...I'm going mad!"_

_'Calm...calm...calm...'_

_'Maybe it all had been another one of my weird dreams? An hallucination?'_ Wally looked down at his hands. They were clean. Not a trace of blood.

 _'It was a dream. Superman is impervious to nigh everything-that was a proven fact. It was a dream. Only explanation.'_ He breathed deeply.

_Calming down._

_-Watchtower THREAT...Wally RUN HOME NOW-_

Okay, so he'd better seek _calm_ at Central City. What the heck. Not like it was far. Especially from the Watchtower. Even if it wasn't, he liked to run.

He was born to run.

_-WALLY-_

_'Herme's stinking gym socks.'_

_Run._

Grabbing the knapsack, Wally ran back out into the hallway, blurring past a few superheroes who gaped like the doctors had done before shouting warnings and reaching for alarms and communicators. Sirens were blaring.

Oh, come _on!_ Intruder alarms? For _him?_ The returned hero and a _League Founder?_ So fine,  maybe he had left the medical ward a tad early and without a doctor's okay. Could anybody really blame him? Self dismissal for reasons of personal safety hardly warranted actions reserved for an escaped villain.

Besides, why weren't they spreading the alarm that Superman was roaming the Watchtower with cosmetology fantasies and serious sexual issues?

_'What the fuck is going on?'_

_ Superman _ _was bloodied._

_No, that was a dream. Superman is fine. Just dandy. It was_ _ Flash _ _who was in danger of being royally screwed._

_Right. Then why the sirens? Why were people acting scared when they saw him?_

Reality was in a tailspin and heading in a free fall right for his gut, Wally thought with rising hysteria. Scratch finding his friends. They may not _be_ allies now any more than Clark was. Time to keep following Mystery Voice's advice until his situation was less dizzying. At least M.V. seemed to have _some_ inkling about what was happening around here and an inkling was more than he had right now.

_-THREAT-_

_'Too right, M.V.!'_

An unfriendly-looking Green Lantern had appeared ahead of him, raising an emerald blockade and shouting for him to halt.

Yeah, that was going to happen.

Wally ran up the the side of the hallway to avoid the force field and flipped, charging into an alternate hallway before GL could counter the sudden change in direction.

"I thought you said John was _safe_?" Wally screamed at The Voice.

_-Was...Not Trust Now-_

" _Dude_ , give me some warning when info like _that_ changes. _Shit!_ " He barely dodged Shayera's mace. "Fox Mulder had it pegged: You can't trust _anybody_."

He kept on running, not thinking about the sirens. About the angry look on Shay's face. Not thinking about much of anything other than planting one foot in front of the other and looking out for hostile League members while looking for the best exit sign. (That was the nice thing about his favorite exercise: running didn't require great stretches of thought.) Though as he frantically dodged the scattered super heroes trying to capture him before he could reach the closest transporter, Wally did wonder why there were so few people about the space station. Was there a major mission going on? If so, that was a good thing for him; unless they were gathered at Central City. Then he'd be beaming down into a hornets nest instead of potential safety.

A red blur moved into the transporter room.

Wally switched places with a startled technician (rather than threaten the man with impromptu brain surgery as Luthor had once done over a year earlier) and started pushing buttons. The tech ran towards his comrades. Wally paid him no mind. He was keying in known operational codes (and then when that failed) potential ones without stopping even as Shayera's voice came over the P.A. ordering the transporters turned off. As with the two doctors, Wally could have sworn he heard his last name on the lips of several people in what sounded like exclamations of fear, but didn't dare stop trying different combinations to ponder it. (Anyway, his name was also a compass bearing: north, south, east, west? They must be giving directions to each other.)

_Wonder about it later. Don't think. Type in numbers. Get off the Watchtower. Rule of survival: Fight or Flight-don't want to fight. Have to transport down. Why aren't any of these_ _ fucking _ _ numbers _ _ working _ _?_

_Nonono-the power was still shutting down? Why wasn't even his secret authorization code overriding the shutdown?_

"Flash!"

Superman's voice caused Wally to pause in the middle of a number sequence. He looked up, green eyes zeroing in on the original source of his terror.

The Kryptonian was still red eyed, but also blotchy faced and staggering in pain while holding his abdomen and really just looking incredibly _horrible_.

_What could do that to Superman?_

_-Protect Wally-_

His Mystery Voice did that?

_"Protecting me required_ _ maiming _ _Superman?" the speedster's voice sounded strangulated. Hurting The Man Of Steel. That had to be breaking several laws and not all of them devised by Man. Like a natural law or something._

_-Wally is All...Must Protect-_

_"That's ridiculous!"_

_-PROTECT from Clark-_

Nononono-

"Look, I'll decide when and how-"

_-NO...Clark threat...Protect...Wally is All...PROTECT...WALLY IS ALL-_

" _Fuck it!"_ Wally screamed aloud to the Voice in his frustration.

"Who's he talking to?" a meta asked. Some looked confused. Most looked scared and angry like they expected Flash to start foaming at the mouth and going on a psychopathic murderous spree.

"Nobody. He's violently insane," John helpfully confirmed their fears for them, all in a grim voice. "Let me try something first," he whispered to Shayera. "Once he's down, stun him." Stewart's brow furrowed for a moment. He rubbed the momentary twinge away, slowly advancing on the teleporter controls.

John's rough voice becamemore cajoling as he called out to the speedster. "Easy, Wally. Nothing bad will happen to you. Why don't you come over here and I'll get you some ice mochas and sub sandwiches, and yummy pizzas with all the works. There'll be fun video games; toys, too. All of it for you to play with. It will be just like a party. You like parties. If you just walk slowly to me-" Superman managed a growl that had GL hastily change that last word, " _us_...that's a good Wally...good boy..." Wally's jaw loosened at this open display of condescension from one of his oldest friends.

_'Oh gods. The Pod People had gotten to John as well. That had to be the explanation for this.'_

"You...said my first name out loud? GL...you just told everyone my _name_?" He was aghast. "That's...that's...that's like _something sacred!_ _Why?_ "

"Wally, trust me. You're ill, but John is going to make it all better if you let him."

Wally shook his head, getting angry now. "Quit talking to me like I'm a toddler. I'm not the one who's ill, damn it!" Wally brought up one hand to rake it through his hair, but ran into smooth fabric instead. (Oh yeah...Flash uniform. He'd gotten unused to wearing it.) Where was Batman or J'onn? Someone who might hold a clue as to why things were pear shaped. "It's Superman. He's gone cracked." At John's disbelieving face, Wally exploded with frustrated gestures."He threatened your ring and hand, John! He washed my hair and cut it with his freakin' eye lasers! He was about to fucking _rape_ me!" The crowd looked at him with a wary pity. John straightened his shoulders.

"The madness is too strong. He can't be saved." The Green Lantern's ring and eyes were bright green. "Terminate him."

 _"What?"_ Wally gaped at this unexpectedly cold announcement. "B-but...the League doesn't condone _killing_!"

Someone must have traded in the old code of conduct book because, Wally reluctantly admitted, they did look pretty darn ready to kill.

Superman was rasping out a command for someone to shut off _all_ the transporters and javelins, as well as the room's gravity. Shayera flew upwards with mace raised, looking ready to play Whack The Wally. John was all violent-intent-in-motion as he flew in with ring powered up to create a net and scimitar. Red Tornado prepared to counter any whirlwind The Flash might try to create. Heroes able to levitate converged to the pad or to the controls with offensive weapons ready to put into play once The Flash was rendered handicapped by zero gravity.

_'Shit! You have got to be kidding me!'_

Wally West didn't want to fight. Argue his treatment, plead for mercy, yeah, but not _fight_. He didn't _want_ to hurt anyone. Nor was he thrilled by the end result of surrendering because they really didn't look like mercy was an option currently on the table...like on the order of none there at all.

What was he going to do? Panic was welling up again and that scared him even more. What if he did something else awful to everyone here despite himself? Like at LexCorp...like with Superman?

_What the hell do I do now, M.V.?_

_-PROTECT-_

(Oh...mistake, mistake. Again with the acting before thinking. _)_

 _"No-don't!"_ Wally screamed out loud at the top of his voice as that strange murmuring began again in his head. The League paused at this, uneasy at their quarry's sudden outburst. They'd seen what the insane speedster was capable of. Superman actually blanched, cradling his torn and crimson abdomen.

It felt like the dawn of Armageddon had come.

People were going to die.

There was nothing he could do to stop it.

Nothing.

A steady blipping noise became clear with the sudden falling of silence.

Wally's attention was drawn back to the screen where his last, forgotten, attempt at an authorization code was rapidly erasing. He blinked as the system's screen momentarily went dark then flashed a new number for the space of a tenth-of-a-second...one that looked a lot like it was another authorization number with an extension code. Wally speed typed it in, wondering what the number would do. Where would it send him?

When would he learn to stop being so darn impulsive?

Hera's knickers in a twist! If it was a trap, then it was a trap. He was out of options.

The telepad lit up. The red-clad mant slammed a hand down on the send command as soon as the okay light came on...

..and prayed.

The dematerialization was completed just nanoseconds before an electron-magnetic pulse knocked out the Watchtower's power.

* * *

 _Crap..._ he'd hit his tailbone. Wally hated it when that happened. Sure it healed pretty rapidly, but it still felt sore and that was probably the second most socially-unacceptable place to rub on in public.

Peeling himself from his prone position on the cracked and weed infested asphalt, Flash looked around.

He was in a city...a really filthy one too, he decided, studying with disdain the bits of street grime sticking to his normally pristine suit. Graffiti was everywhere. Trash gathered on curbs or floated with the random whirlwinds created by passing cars. Doors and windows were barred. Dirty street urchins played dodger with a decaying basketball that looked ready to fall apart.

Definitely wasn't his adopted town. Not even the worst areas of Keystone City were this bad off while Central barely sported abandoned buildings while the streets were always kept in good repair. Well, when not being destroyed by battles with Rogues.

 _"Where is this?"_ (Mystery Voice stayed silent.) Wally rolled his eyes. _'Go ahead, sulk just because I didn't want you hurting them.'_

The dilapidated basketball wobbled over to hit him in the foot. Wally reached to grab it. He studied it's misshapen shape a moment, then lobbed it back to the kids, not noticing until it had left his hands that the ball now looked like it was brand new from the store. The kids gathered around the toy, touching it in wonder. A lopsided smile came to The Flash's face seeing their amazement.

He'd always had a soft spot for kids.

_'Don't think I've forgiven you just yet, M.V., but that was a nice thing to do...however it was done.'_

The voice still remained quiet.

Dusting off the grime from his uniform, Wally hoisted his knapsack onto his back, noting the odd looks the children were now giving his bright red form. Some instinct warned him that they were not staring due to either awe or gratitude but for some reason more disquieting.

He was too conspicuous here. A change was in order.

The Flash zipped into an alley, glanced around to make sure he was unobserved. A quick change into old blue jeans, a green pullover sweater, and ratty sneakers meant it was incognito Wally West who slowly exited half a moment later rather than the renowned super hero.

No fame, no fortune, no paparazzi sniffing for interviews. It should be safe enough to look around like this.

Spying a newspaper front copy scuttling near where the kids were playing, Wally sauntered over at normal speed to snatch it up before it could continue it's wind borne journey to nowhere. A few flip overs and the headline was staring at him in scrapped ink and crinkled paper.

Wally stared at his picture and the headline in frozen horror, literally unable to move.

One of the street urchins who had been watching him intently, edged closer in order to peer at at his face. His eyes widened in a comedic fashion, but what he yelled to the others as he high-tailed back was not funny at all. Nor was what his buddies yelled back.

"Cripes-Dog-I told you it was him!"

"What? _No way_ , man. Serious?"

"The Flash wouldn't come here."

"Don't believe me. Go over there and we'll see if he rips _you_ to shreds. I tell you it's that Wally West guy all the feds are looking for. I'm outta here."

"No shit. Only lets find a cop. Maybe we can collect the reward."

"Heck, man, he'd just kill the cop like before he could blink! Let's go!"

They ran away, leaving the street deserted save for debris, grime, and a lone figure.

Wally breathed. They thought he'd _killed_ someone? But that had only just happened. Anyway, Superman hadn't _died_ , so he wasn't a murderer even if he really was insane.

_Oh hell._

A wad of paper had hit him in the cheek. He hadn't even seen it coming at his face and normally he'd have noticed something that slow making a collision course for him. Maybe he was going into shock?

"Wally...come on-quickly before they return with the authorities."

Who?

The speedster tore his eyes from the newspaper picture to see The Question beckoning to him from what appeared to b a condemned building's doorway. Wally considered it for a moment. No voice in his head warning of this or that. Apparently his invisible friend liked a good sulk. It could also be inferred that by it's silence he wasn't in any real danger as yet.

Roll of the dice situation.

Fifty/Fifty odds of getting ambushed or something else unpleasant.

Only...

 _Question knows Wally,_ the Voice had earlier proclaimed with equanimity _._

"It looks like _everyone_ knows Wally, _but_ me," the speedster complained as he jogged to keep the blue trench coat within sight without getting too close.

The blank face of The Question considered the wary approach of the man grasping a knapsack and yesterday's newspaper headline:

* * *

**~THE HUB CITY TIMES~**

**WAS WEST DEATH A SHAM?**

**Dead Flash May Be Instigator In Vengeful Run On Metropolis!**

_In what can be called a real news Flash, Presidential hopeful Luther claims to be an eyewitness to the destruction and death of a dozen of his employees even as the world gaped in awe at the sight of the Metropolis LexCorp headquarters shooting into space. The man responsible? The supposedly deceased Wallace Rudolph West (earlier revealed by LexCorp as the Twin Cities meta named The Flash- for full story on The Flash, see page A18)_ Months earlier, West was said to have been killed during a mission. Rumor remains that he was betrayed by Superman (now head of The Triumvirate See page A19)

* * *

"I see you found part of the truth. Care to learn the rest?"

Feeling numb, Wally just nodded his head.

  
  



	7. Questions & Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashis being stalked by J'onn and Batman; just what has this to do with a forgotten battle that took place at Central City?
> 
> Wally has lots of questions, but does Question have all the answers?

**Chapter 7: Questions & Answers**

* * *

.

_In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day. ~F. Scott Fitzgerald_

.

Rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around. ~Buddy Buie and J.R. Cobb, "Rock Bottom" (song)

.

* * *

.

[Current Time: Hub City, Illinois]

Oh, lovely, Wally thought as trailed behind Question.

The aged building consisted mainly of a large waiting area with broken bits of chairs, a moth eaten couch cushion and a collapsing office desk. Along the far wall was a staircase going upwards to the second floor suspended some 15 feet above them. It was all silent and empty with only some daylight shining through a few broken windows to alleviate the oppressive shadows within and some extremely dusty pamphlets on the floor.

Pity, but the sunlight was trying in vain to dispel the foreboding atmosphere. The area reeked of things Wally didn't particularly want to place and half wished this was Batman walking a few steps ahead of him just so he could beg for the use of a spare gas mask. Casual hypothesis about what this place was once used for did not sit well with his stomach. The sooner he got what ever it was that Question was willing to share and got out of here the better.

Wally's guide made a bee-line for the stairs and started climbing in an all-business-like manner; a more uncertain West was left trailing behind and biting his lip as he followed the trench-coated figure up the narrow, bisected path to the upper floor. The higher they ascended, the more the place seemed long abandoned. The walls were as grimy as the street outside, the paint peeling and in some places the ceiling showed mold damage from a leaking roof. It all screamed of decades long squalor that held a touch of menace. Even the broken glass in the window panes reminded the speedster of jagged carnivore teeth. He was constantly on alert to grab The Question by the waist and leap to safety should either the ceiling or the steps under their feet decide to cave in and send them plummeting downward. The speedster was likewise tempted to run to the top with the man as extra baggage-just to get to their destination faster in the hope he could breathe cleaner air.

"You move into a lower rent district?" Wally jokingly inquired as he kept breathing as shallow as possible while making sure to keep his hands from brushing suspiciously unidentifiable stains. "Told you that career counselor was lying when he said Conspiracy Theorist paid well, but no, you wouldn't listen."

* * *

Charles Victor Szasz or 'Vic Sage' (a.k.a. The Question) and Wallace Rudolph West or 'Wally' (a.k.a. The Flash.)

The two men were not strangers yet did not know each other all that well. At least they shouldn't have what with their polar-opposite personalities and social standing within The Justice League.

Wally was a Founding member of the League and highly gregarious and fairly trusting in nature.

The Question was a loner who earned his alias by being arguably the best investigator there was...if one considered a bit cracked what with his penchant for wild conspiracy theories. His paranoia included the utterly feature-less mask he wore (understandable given his spy work) and (maybe not so rational) a determined lack of shoelace aglets. It was privately joked that Question hadn't joined the Justice League so much to help out as to keep tabs on everyone within it. In the early days after the new Watchtower was set up, Wally argued it a given that The Question maintained a thick dossier compiled for everyone on the planet. In something he considered an act of self defense, the speedster had used his own-borrowed-resources to even the odds by knowing at least _something_ about the man that was not public knowledge. Upon learning this and finding that The Flash had enough common sense not to brandy this sensitive information about, they had struck up a casual business partnership...like Wally's acquiring the private authorization code in return for doing the odd _FMAExpress_ _"When it absolutely, positively has to be there before the stamp is dry!"_ delivery service.

West and Sage had first met by accident while on a coffee break at an economically-priced bistro located in Metropolis. (Or maybe it hadn't been an _accident_. With Vic you could never truly be sure what was coincidental and what was deliberate spying.) At any rate, Wally (dressed as The Flash) had been impatiently waiting for Superman to finish his Clark stint at The Daily Planet so they could start a joint mission: aiding one cash-bound Flash in finding a suitable birthday present for " _The Man Who Has Everything Including The Batmobile."_ Naturally, Clark was a minute late for their rendezvous and Wally had gotten hungry as well as supremely bored...so he had wandered into the nearest eatery that looked both affordable and offered decently-sized serving proportions.

Having previously only seen him from a distance at the Watchtower, Flash had been surprised and delighted to discover the Question warming one of the bistro's bar stools. Here (he'd mistakenly thought) was a fresh audience who had not yet been regaled with tales of The Fastest Man Alive.

_Sweet!_

" _Waiting for someone,_ " The Question had concisely replied to Wally's grinning inquiry. (Back then Wally hadn't learned to be suspicious enough to ask just _who_ Vic had been waiting to see; and, well, the man had that restrictive mask on so he wasn't really there for the digestible edibles, was he?)

Anyway, The Scarlet Motormouth had naturally struck up a...er...mostly one-way conversation with the Taciturn Paranoid, so they weren't exactly strangers to each other after that even if Vic's participation in it had consisted mostly confiding his first name ( _"The"_ ), listening intently and scribbling things down whenever Wally talked about his super hero exploits, and a variety of laconic hrm's and grunts whenever Flash had asked something about The Question. Wally had gotten the impression that his being within a yardstick's length of the man was more than tolerated, though, and that was enough for him to wax on about himself until Clark finally found them twenty minutes later and given them both what Wally had considered an unnecessary talking to about acceptable public appearances and sticking with a meeting spot. (The last grouse aimed at Wally.)

In the week that followed, a bored Flash with nothing better to do while on enforced monitor duty _("Gee, thanks, Big Blue; forgiving much?")_ had found his 'inner Batman' and used Founder records to discover that Vic Sage lived in Hub City and that his apartment building was rated as habitable and populated even if not exactly swanky even by Hub City standards. Therefore either yet another thing in the speedster's tops-turvy world was seriously whacked or this was _not_ Vic's living quarters they were heading for.

* * *

The Question turned to the left as they ascended off the last step and traversed a narrow hallway with only three doors facing opposite. He placed a hand on the middle one and pushed it open, walking inside. Wally looked around at the threshold. Finding nothing of either interest or striking concern, he too entered. By this time The Question had moved to the lone window. The lone-wolf investigator stood pressed to one side of the dirty glass, blank face 'looking' down at the street below. Wally zipped to the other side and followed this example in caution. He peered through a relatively clean spot on the pane.

A man wearing a Hub City police officer's clothing and rain jacket was looking intently around the area.

"Why was I brought here?" Wally asked softly so as not to risk drawing the cop's attention to them. (You never knew...the guy down there might have super hearing.)

_God, he was getting as paranoid as Vic._

"Inconspicuous. Or would have been if you had thought before acting."

Wally pursed his lips at the implication that he'd already gone and messed up. Again he'd been branded _the child_ and the speedster was sick of it. If he was currently living in ignorance of situations that the others took for granted it was because nobody was telling him stuff of importance. It was hardly his fault he'd been _sequestered_ from public events for half a year; Luthor hadn't exactly allowed him access to any news media.

"You were the one who sent that code to the Watchtower transporter controls so I could use it and end up here."

"...Yes." Eying his companion, Wally frowned at the somewhat hesitant confirmation. He couldn't pin point just why, but something wasn't right here.

"How did you know I'd be at the transporter just then? How did you know I'd want to get away from the W.T. in the first place? Did you realize they've all gone nuts up there and wanted to kill me?"

"Did they?" The investigator murmured as if he either wasn't surprised or didn't care that Wally had barely escaped the space station with all his parts intact.

"Vic!" Wally growled out, highly annoyed at the spy's callous reply. "Full attention here? Tried to kill me. _Kill_ me. As in alert the undertaker? French-fried Flash Takeaway?"

_"I saw the light."_ The Question finally moved away from the window, standing straight and staring intensely at him as if The Flash was a bug to dissect...which was quite something considering the blank mask Vic wore.

_-Wally-_

_'In a moment, M.V.'_

"Vic, _please_ don't go weird on me right now," a tired Wally pleaded with the man. "I've been held as a frigging prized toy for months, the card-carrying boy scout _Superman_ just tried to rape me, which incidentally ended in my best friends calling for  my _termination_..." he shuddered at the memories, "I've been through enough damned paranoia-inducing crap within the last 48 hours that I'm starting to feel that maybe the Creeper was the only sane one in the whole League; so excuse me if I'm not wanting to hear your cryptic conspiracy theories. Just tell me what all this...this _libel_ of me as a serial killer..." he waved the bit of newsprint at the blank face, "is about."

Although he otherwise stayed still, Wally saw The Question's hands form into fists.

_-threat-_

Not as far as Wally could discern as it was just him and Question and Sage had already earned the M.V. stamp of approval. Of course, so had John for a bit before he'd confused Wally for Sinestro or something.

"What did you _do_ to Superman and the Watchtower?" The inquiry might as well have been issued from Captain Cold's gun for all the lack of warmth it held.

"I'm not exactly sure.." Wally took a hesitant breath. "You already know about Superman?" he asked in turn. Sure, Question was good at what he did, but that seemed kind of fast for someone not licensed to wear red and gold speed jammies.

"Stewart told me."

"Oh." Feeling unnerved by the man's austere behavior, Wally absently folded the abused news page and stuffed it in his pack to avoid having to look at Sage's no-face while he fumbled for an answer. He was starting to regret having followed Vic here and was contemplating running back outside even if there were cops hanging around. The only reason he had not done so already was that The Question was not a meta and Wally felt confident he could handle any physical attack the man might suddenly try. That, and the Voice was not spouting dire warnings. "Not much to tell. One moment Superman was acting weird, the next he was screaming for me to 'stop it'. Before you ask, I'm not totally sure what _it_ was. _It_ just...happened."

"Superman is being flown to his fortress for emergency surgery. Stewart had to procure a kryptonite shard that could be sculpted into a surgical knife that will actually work on his physiology. _It_ was rather an extreme action on your part seeing as Superman _didn't_ rape you," the investigator concluded in an accusing tone. Wally listened and cringed at this news, ignoring the niggling thought that something about this speech wasn't right. He was really upset about how bad off Clark was too, but...

"Yeah, well, believe me it wasn't from-" He looked up from the pack in surprise. "Hold on...you can't possibly have known _that_." He frowned. "Why don't they use the transporters?"

_'Voice, what's the threat?'_

_-J'onn-_

_'John?'_ Tired and distracted, Wally thought he'd misheard the name. Had GL found his location?

"I know a lot of things," The Question stonily asserted, causing Wally to throw up his hands in growing anger at the man's continued hard stance. Honestly, Vic was never Mister Ebullience, but really, couldn't he show a bit of empathy? Wally was near his wits end here!

_"Hell's bake sale, Vic!_ I didn't mean to hurt him, okay? I'm really, _really_ sorry about landing Supes in a hospital. Just...I was scared and wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea of waiting for the most powerful guy on the planet to inform me _in what position_ he'd like me to assume when he nailed my-"

_-Wally...J'onn THREAT-_

_'J'onzz?'_ Wally mentally asked; startled right out of his diatribe at The Question by the strident voice.

_-J'onn THREAT HERE NOW-_

The speedster breathed rapidly, casting nervously about. If Martian Manhunter had gone as loco as everyone else had he could be in real trouble as J'onn was a far superior adversary than even the average meta. His fellow Founder could morph shape as well as go through solid objects, not to mention the powerful telepathy that was harder to hide from than a determined landlord seeking rent.

_'I'm forgetting something...maybe multiple somethings. Dammit, I need sleep and a chance to think!'_

"Vic, have you been keeping tabs recently on J'onn? Has he been acting...well...odd?" Like homicidal odd.

The Question crossed the few steps that had separated them. Flash winced when the man grabbed his shoulders in a hard grip. (Apparently Vic liked to work out a lot because those fingers were digging rather painfully into his muscles...muscles that were not as solid as they'd once been thanks to prolonged captivity.)

"Speaking of odd behavior...you aren't planning on _kissing_ me or anything, are you?" a worried Wally asked. "Because I don't think Huntress would approve and I have enough people wanting to shorten my life span for undisclosed reasons let alone out of jealo-"

"You will think about everything that happened at the Watchtower."

_What?_

"Dude, it's _because_ of what happened on the Watchtower that I'd really feel more comfortable with a bit of extra personal space allotment here. Besides, more important stuff to fret over just now. J'onn is nearby." Wally casually tried and failed to shrug out of Question's bruising hold. "You're hurting me, by the way," he added with some unease. Unfortunately, his rebuke fell on deaf ears.

"Share with me _everything_. Leave out no details. How you defeated Luthor. _How you hurt Superman_. How you escaped through closed doors."

"Vic, ease up on the death grip so I can think, okay? Not exactly feeling my best here."

_'Calm down, calm down...not like Vic's going to kill me...at least not now. M.V. would surely have said something along those lines.'_

If anything, the grip on his shoulders tightened. Wally swallowed a grunt of pain.

"Um...Superman was an _accident_ , already! Geez, I was terrified of him, but I never meant to hurt him. I didn't kill anyone, see? Those people at LexCorp, they left it alive before I-" The Question's mask got within an inch of his nose.

"Give me your secrets, _boy_."

Wally stiffened at the demand because now it was undeniable.

He was screwed.

_'Oh gods, M.V... the Pod People have gotten to The Question as well!'_ It seemed whatever or whomever was affecting his friends were quite resourceful if they had managed to _get at_ someone as mistrustful as Vic Sage. This meant that even Batman couldn't be considered someone he could run to and if you couldn't go to _Batman_...

_-J'onn THREAT-_

_'I heard! I heard! More immediate problem right now, M.V. One threat at a time!'_

Well, he was hardly helpless.

Eyes narrowed with determination, Wally vibrated _just a little_ this time (because he really didn't want to hurt Vic) before trying to jerk away. The old stand-by speedster trick failed to work its magic though. _Which meant he wasn't dealing with normal human physiology anymore. Was this actually the evil snake shadow scary things or some new mutation menace subverting everyone he knew?_ So far no one was humming that sepulchral tune of the Dark Worshipers, so Wally was opting for the latter. _Or was this those sex spores things he'd read about in lurid fan novels on the Net? (Not that he spent a lot of time reading lurid fan novels...he'd been bored.) Puerile pollen might explain Superman and Luthor._ _Maybe Poison Ivy was experimenting and the stuff had gotten loose?_

_'Geez, I'm starting to blather, Wally groaned. If I survive everything, I'm am so taking a long vacation. Someplace without plant life or considered romantic.'_

_The Sahara had too much sand. Really, running past the speed of sound with sand in your shorts even with a protective aura..._

_Antarctica sounded good. He could bring along one of those portable heater things. (The North Pole was discounted seeing as it was Superman territory and he was staying as far away from Kryptonian bedroom suites as he could get)._

_Blathering again._

_'Focus, speedster.'_

"Why?" Wally sneered with more bravado than he really felt. (Maybe if Vic got mad enough he'd try to throw a punch and Wally could then escape from the nutcase.) "Can't you get them yourself, buddy? You're the one Batman goes to for answers, aren't you? Or _are_ you? Maybe you're just a fraud."

"Open your memories." Question responded to the taunts by moving one clamping hand from Wally's shoulder to his head. "Give them to me or I will kill you." The Question winced as he uttered the last couple of words. Wally sincerely hoped it was a sign of Vic snapping out of whatever obsessive funk he'd fallen into.

_'Oh shit...I bet it's one of those slugs that treat brains as Motel 6's like in Star Trek. Where the heck was M.V. and it's proclamations of 'Protect Wally's? Hell, this was_ _ not _ _the time to start DJ'ing Elton John in his head again. I just want to get some answers and a lot of sleep. Not necessarily in that order.'_

"You've got the socks wrong."

The Question growled as he half turned around at the sound of his own voice only to be met with a gloved fist to the jaw and...below the belt. Stumbled back and to his knees.

Needless to say, he'd let go of Flash.

Now safely out of arm's reach, Wally inhaled at the sight of a literally no-faced cop kicking a no-faced investigator in the head for good measure.

_'Wow...reports of increased police brutality were apparently not exaggerated.'_

"Question?" a very confused Wally looked at the downed Question doppelganger then back at the cop wearing an identical Pseudoderm face mask.

_Okay, maybe there was a sale going on DIY Halloween gear?_ He doubted it, buy stranger things had made a point of happening around him.

"Explain later." The Question/cop started running down the stairs-leaping down the last set to quicken his descent. Wally wasted a nanosecond gaping at the original "Question", the truth clicking even as the trench coat began to blur from cobalt to a green hue. He sped down the stairs in fear.

"That was J'onn?"

"Hrm."

_Oh, fuck!_

Wally shivered at the thought of a malevolent Martian after the contents of his skull. Superman, GL, Shayera, and now J'onn wanted him dead. Well, Supes wasn't out to _off_ him to begin with so much as to get off _by_ him, but the alien hadn't looked too happy with Wally those last few moments in the Watchtower. Where were Batman and Wonder Woman? Did they want him 'terminated' as well? For that matter, should he be acting unwary around _this_ Question just yet? Trusting people was not panning out to be a good survival activity. It had almost gotten him brain fried back there because he'd so wanted to believe that Sage was someone he could lean on. He couldn't afford to trust anyone, though.

_'Except for M.V. It had tried to warn me about J'onn. Sorry, I didn't listen to you, M.V.'_

-Wally tired-

_'Yeah.'_ he fought back a yawn that was threatening despite the pump of adrenaline. _'I seriously need to crash soon.'_

"Excuse me if I'm coming out as a bit stressed and ungrateful, but I _am_ -majorly-so how do I know you're not J'onn and you just punched out the real Question while using some Batman special hologram doohickey to make Vic look like a Martian? I mean, you're not dressed as usual."

"One to talk," the 'policeman' verbally jabbed back. West couldn't decide if he was referring to his nervous chatter or cheekily remarking on Wally's scruffy civilian clothing. He continued on before the speedster could say anything more on either account, "Incognito."

"Like a blank face wasn't enough, huh?" the meta pointed out. "I'm still not convinced."

" _One_ , orange socks." Wally glanced down to see that this policeman indeed sported a violently tangerine pair. True, it was doubtful that any police force approved of weird personal-choice clothing statements like that, but...

"And that's supposed to be proof of identity...bad color combining?"

"Orange dye negates the frequencies used by the Illuminati to control human I.Q. levels via the extensive pesticides used on cotton."

"What...you couldn't just buy polyester ones?" Apathetic silence was the response to his dazzling display of logic. "Okay, I give that you do sound like you're Vic rather than J'onn," Wally warily admitted as they came to the outside exit. Even though only J'onn knew what Martian's considered as appropriate hosiery or the discussion thereof.

"Mm-" The Question whirled around as he pulled a miniature flame thrower from under his police-issue raincoat and sent a steady burst soaring over the speedster's head. Even with a sped up perspective, the gaseous display reaching skyward was impressive. Wally heard J'onn's distinctive scream of fear from above and behind him.

Martians were terrified of fire.

Flash winced, but did not turn around. " _Two_..." Vic assured him, "not the one afraid to play with matches."

_-Question safe...Wally rest Soon-_

" _Ah, huh._ Right...I'm convinced." It was possible his grin was a bit shakier than normal.

_-Threat-_

The additional warning from Mystery Voice made Wally go rigid for a half second. Had he made the wrong choice after all? Dammit, mind with the speed of a computer and he still needed to get a ledger to keep track of all the player shifts: _Safe/Unsure/Deadly as Hell. The way things were going, Deadly as Hell was going to need it's own ledger._

Vic Sage didn't act like he'd noticed Wally's sudden distraction. "We agree then," he casually glanced down the street. "area's a mite crowded. Ride to my place?"

Following his line of sight, Wally saw that a few expensive Humvee had pulled up onto the nearby street corner with several people getting out who sported unusual military-style clothing and carried oddly shaped bags that didn't look like they were designed for hauling groceries or souvenirs.

_Crap._

These guys weren't some soldiers on leave in Hub City for a good time even if the place could be considered one that a good time could be had in. Wally had been in enough countries to recognize _Special Forces_ grunts when he saw them. That meant that M.V.'s yellow-scale 'threat' warning was about these goons and not the real Question being dangerous to him.

"You offering or asking?" Flash half joked. Question looked at him without answering which was an answer in itself.

_'Swell.'_

"Let me guess. You didn't pay the taxi cab driver a decent tip and he left without waiting." Apparently not seeing the need to elaborate, The Question continued looking at him. Wally rolled his eyes in return. This was the real deal alright: Vic was one of a kind. "Okay. But I warn you this is as free and easy as I'm getting tonight." Silently telling protesting muscles to suck it up, Wally hauled Vic onto his back and ran.

* * *

[Current time: The Batcave, Gotham City]

_"Code: The Walrus. Password...Jabberwocky."_

_"Code: The oyster bed. Password...Nighthawk." The responding voice paused before adding with an air of impatience. "_ What is it?"

"Anything?"

"Evidence is leaning toward your suspicion. Cheshire Cat is continuing his sweeps."

"There's been a confirmed sighting of Wayward Son. He nearly bit off Macaw's head then kicked over the nest. Fellow birds are in chaos. Macaw is critical."

"The nest?"

"Abandoned for now."

"Green Parrot?"

"AWOL."

"And...?"

Punks then saw him in Hub City. Two went looking for a policeman to report it to. Interestingly, they later claimed at the police station that the cop was... _unidentifiable_. Someone I should know about?"

"Question...an investigative reporter into conspiracy theories. Good _...very_ good at digging up dirt."

"What will he do?"

"Take him in. Try to find the truth. He's obsessed with it."

"Is he dangerous?"

(A long pause.)

"Nothing is for certain. Normally, no, but unpredictable at the best of times." _These are not the best of_ _times._

"Understood."

"Watch. Don't contact him." _I can forgive a lot, but not that._

"Agreed."

"You _know_ who I mean, Jabberwocky. He's in no state to deal with you."

"You've made your point clear."

"If any of us are to survive, I _better_ had."

With a dissatisfied growl, Jabberwocky ended the transmission. He angrily punched a button on the console and leaned back, eyes closed to think, murmuring softly with the Kansas song, _"Carry on my wayward son...There'll be peace when you are done...Lay your weary head to rest...Don't you cry no more..."_

_Nighthawk didn't understand._

* * *

[Current Time: Hub City]

It took a bit longer than necessary to arrive at their destination as Wally was not really familiar with Hub City's street addresses and had to rely on The Question's verbal directions to find the right apartment complex. As a result (even going as slow as he dared) Wally kept overshooting turn directions by a quarter mile before his passenger could finish uttering them and the speedster had to make several quick u-turns to backtrack.

"Never disparage transporters again," Wally heard Vic mutter as the windblown man disembarked with slightly staggering steps.

That was gratitude for you. After Wally had used extra energy chasing down the cop hat that Vic had failed to hold onto early into the trip and thus allowed to come into the temporary possession of a snot-nosed toddler whose grip had been harder to displace than J'onn's...you'd think Vic'd show a mite more appreciation?

"Hey, you want slow and steady, next time take the bus." Wally stretched to pop a vertebrae back into place with a groan. "Now I know why jockeys have to meet a weight limit before they're allowed on a thoroughbred. You could have at least dumped that flame thrower. Not only does it weigh like a brick, I had to worry about it accidentally going off and ending up with a major case of bum flambe."

That would have been rather uncool.

His stomach growled to remind him he hadn't eaten since being in his Watchtower quarters and the extra emotional stress was a real fuel burner-like cruising around at 90-mph in The Flash Mobile instead of the recommended gas saving 55-mph. Frankly, Wally just wanted to curl up somewhere safe with a pillow, some anti-stress MP3s and food. Lots of food. He placed a hand over the area to soothe it's protests. "Dude, your faithful Flash o' War needs some oats before he passes out from hunger." He thought he heard the Question grunt 'Big Red' and grinned as Vic led his impromptu 'steed' into his humble abode. With luck Vic's cupboards wasn't some inedible wasteland and he wouldn't have to delve into his own meager supplies yet.

"Oatmeal in kitchen; blanket on couch. Grooming not provided."

"Oh, trust me," Wally grimaced thinking of his impromptu haircut, "I already had the last one done."

* * *

Taking Vic's offer to heart, Wally helped himself to several bowls of granola and other "edibles", setting them on the coffee table near the couch where he crashed with the aforementioned blanket. Meanwhile his host did his own indulging of choice: obsessively checking and crosschecking his security devices before powering up his laptop. The time spent waiting for it to load it's programs was utilized in exchanging the police get-up for his trademark blue and orange clothing (and, yes, lurid orange socks included.) Cracking his knuckles, the expert hacker started typing as soon as it booted.

"So...how'd you know where J'onn had beamed me down to or that he had?" Wally asked between speedy mouthfuls so that his masticating wouldn't distort the sentences nor the questions disrupt his repast. "Was it Green Lantern?" He started on a second bowl of oatmeal with whole bananas laid on top rather than bothering to slice them. (It was all going to end up in the same place anyway.) The burning eyes of a menacing alien invader movie poster watched him scarf it all down. Wally made a face at it but otherwise ignored its rudeness. As long as it didn't go corporeal and try to steal his food...

"Not spoken with Stewart since the League split up."

A heaping spoonful halted midway to mouth. "But..?"

The Question continued to stare at his laptop screen while making the odd note on some scattered post-it pads. "Buffalo wings result of secret Thanagarian cross hybrids in Montana?...hm. Inserted code onto an encrypted file of the transporter o.s. before resigning. Magnetic therapy belts short circuiting in Midwest...interesting."

"Um..." Wally chased the image of buffaloes with Thanagarian wings out of his mind with some difficulty seeing as in his mind's eye Shayera was shepherding them with her mace, "Real interesting, Vic. League? What happened afterward?"

"Designed it so triggered by a series of super-rapid sequence attempts...Elvis was Martian impersonator. Death natural hibernation cycle...hrm."

"Uh huh.." Wally finished the bowl a lot slower than he had the last, mind no longer on his food. Finally, here was someone who was willing to supply _real_ answers. Well, maybe real even if he still had to sift through the whacko chaff a bit to find the the factual bits. "Okay...so...you were expecting me to _want_ to get away at some point without worrying that an outside hacker with a computer decoder would open it before I did?"

"Not expecting. A possible outcome. Trigger required specific authorization code."

_Possible outcomes. No wonder neither Batman nor Question had a life._

Wally shook his head. Question's lack of a life could be helped at a later date. "You mean the one you created for me. And they say its Batman who thinks of every contingency."

"Not everything." The Question finally looked up from his computer. "However, Batman did suggest your eventual metamorphosis into a fledgling god-possibility not foreseen in _this_ world. At least not as a plausible potentiality."

The speedster blushed a bit at Vic's frankly speculative stare. The whole thing of his turning into a super baddy really _was_ considered to be off the wall if _Question_ at first thought it too fanciful to be believable. Wally wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or insulted by that. Superman made for a spectacular villain. Wally could make a decent villain if he wanted to be. Not that he wanted to. But he could. Kind of.

Man, his mind was wandering again.

_Fledgling possible god?_

_An unknown quantity._

_People feared the Unknown._

"Going to try to kill me, too?" he asked, muscles tensing for an escape.

"Not unless given reason."

"What about Huntress?" his companion froze.

"She choose her own side of the League's split."

_'And I'm the reason for that split. Oh boy.'_ Maybe it was just as well Vic was...well, not exactly emotionally balanced..but not inclined to fly off the handle. He and Huntress had been thick as thieves.

"Oh...so...we won't be necessarily hugging should she show up here?" Wally voiced aloud.

The Question shrugged. "Believes the stories of your destroying everything. Haven't seen her. Won't let her kill you if shows." He paused. "You should sleep."

_-Wally sleep-_

"Um..." Wally drew the blanket tighter to his chest. The memory of Clark's assault was still very vivid in his mind.

"I still prefer Huntress," Question assured him when he showed no signs of relaxing. The speedster's expression said that he could swear Vic was smirking under that mask.

"Well, what man wouldn't...unless she wanted to kill him," a drowsy Wally had to agree, still feeling uncomfortable with the idea of dozing off with anyone else around. However, there wasn't much choice in the matter. He was really wiped and having Question near didn't seem as dangerous as crashing on a public park bench what with the world screaming for his head. He yawned and let his body do the inevitable.

* * *

Waiting until he was sure his guest was fully asleep, Vic used one hand to tuck the speedster in and considered the guileless face that was currently mouthing something. He listened closely.

Snatches of song? Vic made a note of it in case it proved important.

The naive youth did not deserve to be the center point of so much trouble, but then the world was a hotbed for injustice and tyrants that tended to eat the innocent alive. Even the good guys could go bad as the Justice Lords had proven; as the Triumvirate and the world's governments were proving via whatever it was that was influencing them all. The Question knew he held a lot of the connecting strings, yet the main thread of this conspiracy to kill the speedster kept evading him. This theory around West being a danger was sound enough, but something else...something elusive was missing from the puzzle.

The Central City incident.

The Lords involvement with Batman.

The disintegration of The Justice League to a shadow of it's former self.

Universal paranoia against metas and particularly Mr. West.

Now there was Superman acting like a toupee'd Luthor and the League willing to kill.

Vic had devised many theories to fit into the empty spaces between these events, but nothing he could prove. West needed protecting from the shrapnel of those events and the best shield was the Truth. Perhaps when his fellow red head awoke, they could find the missing pieces and devise a counter strike to fix things. Besides, Vic was really beginning to miss his compatriot: Huntress, who had become estranged from him ever since Superman was accused. Sage wished the return of the best spiked-heel sparring partner he'd ever had whose kiss could curl his _anti_ anti-intelligence socks.

The Truth would set her free as well as West.

The Truth would set everyone free.

* * *

_Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done._

_Lay your weary head to rest...don't you cry no more_.

_"I'm going to take care of you."_

_"Always?"_

_"...Always."_

_"Good."_

_Once I rose above the noise and confusion, just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion._

_I was soaring ever higher...but I flew too high..._

_-Wally_ _ is _ _speed-_

_"You mean I can just vibrate through it?"_

_Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man._

_Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man..._

* * *

"humph...a mad man..."

It was very early in the morning when Wally awoke. The speedster blinked away the worst of the sleep from his eyes as he stretched out on the couch like a feline, a blanket corner obscuring one bleary eye and partially hiding spiky red tufts of hair. Snatches of a disjointed dream faded from his mind. Something about a mad man?

Not important. Mornings were automatically cursed anyway. Part of Murphy's Law or something. Best to ignore the first impressions of waking and just wait for it all to make sense by noon.

_Where am I?_ This place wasn't the Watchtower infirmary nor his apartments at either there or Central City. Wasn't he supposed to hurry home?

Oh yeah. The transporter had plopped him at _Hub City_. J'onn had tried to read his mind without asking. Question had given him a place to crash and-miraculously-had yet to either molest or kill him.

Life was looking up.

_-Wally rested...Eat...Go Home-_

Plus, his mental mom was still there.

Eats sounded good though. Eats were a simple enough chore for even the chronically brain dead. He could risk auto-pilot to do that much. A moment later he'd zipped into the kitchen with several bowls of cereal made and back on the coffee table before he was even fully awake. As for the other...

"If Question is safe, M.V., why leave here? I still want answers."

"What we both seek," Question agreed. "Just have to ask the _right_ Question." Wally jumped up hearing Vic's voice answer him rather than the mystery one, not realizing that Sage had been working on his computer the whole night. It was a good thing he'd decided to take the kid in or Flash wouldn't have survived the night. He checked another website lead. "Who is M.V.?"

"Um..nobody. I talk to myself sometimes." Wally did his best to look truthful and innocent. It usually worked.

With complete strangers.

"Hrm...Didn't murder you in your sleep or deflower your virginity. Not safe enough yet?"

Vic was not a complete stranger.

_Apparently, being moral made for a lousy poker player. Batman and John were always chiding him for being as open and easy to read as a child's primer._

_Fantastic._

There was an uncomfortable silence. Not surprisingly, Wally broke it after he sat back down onto the couch.

"Why not? Murder me, I mean. You were ready to assassinate Luthor to prevent my death and the rising of the Lords. Now I'm supposedly just as big a threat as any Lord Superman ever was, so what's the difference? Everyone else is afraid of me so it's hardly like you'd be arrested. Probably be a hero...get parades and interviews and people would like and _admire_ you and stuff." He grabbed the sides of his head with both hands in frustration at this declaration as those recognitions were what _he'd_ always striven for. "I don't understand what's happened. Everything's warped and pretzely-shaped like one of those paintings with the melted clocks. I hate those things...they're not _right_. Why aren't things _right_?"

"Luthor has no conscience," The Question explained in a soothing tone, " _Twisted_ morals to _lose_ it. _You_ twist in knots _to keep_ yours. That is the difference." He didn't add that in his world view, things tended to _not_ be right as there were always these lying scum in low, as well as high, places working to hide the _Truth_. Right now, that knowledge might send the youth over the edge. West was still very flawed emotionally-not ready to handle Szasz's healthy level of cynicism. He'd have to be...

_Tactful._

Vic rose up to stand a few feet away from the couch and it's occupant, then knelt down to get more at 'eye' level. "You were never one to keep things bottled up. Tell me what happened." He tilted his head at his guest's wary look, approving of it in general, but it was not helpful at the moment. "Not a warden. Stay or leave at any time. Leave...door's not locked from inside; stay...find the truth."

Naturally, Wally did consider running; but he was tired of not _knowing_ the facts. Anyway, the voice had earlier said that The Question understood him. More, had rather _implied_ he was the only human on the planet who might do so. It would be necessary to gain whatever knowledge Vic could provide if he wanted to survive long enough to see his next birthday.

Still holding his head as if it might explode if he didn't, Wally looked down at his feet. This wasn't going to be a fun story to relate even in it's extreme-abridged version.

"The last day I was held by Luthor I had given up on being rescued; had given up for a long time, really, because I just _knew_ nobody in the League would come for me like it was a fact set to concrete. But then I had this _revelation_. It was so awesomely _cool_ at the time. Everything was so clear. I knew exactly how to do what I needed to be free and it was as easy as eating a triple-decker, deep-dish peanut butter, pizza sandwich in under five seconds. Well, more exhausting than that because of all the intricacies involved, but not a brain breaker." The speedster gulped rather loudly while wiping sweaty palms on his clothing. "Since waking up with Superman hovering over me...it's like I lost it all. As if the abilities were a dream that faded away when I awakened. Except they can't have been because...because..." he shivered, "um...LexCorp is gone."

(Wally swallowed down bile. He'd almost mentioned M.V. again to The Question. Last thing he needed was his possible only source of help thinking he was more a crackpot than...well, than _Vic_ was considered to be.)

The Question had been listening intently to West's discourse. He now glanced up sharply. "Going to say something else. This M.V." It was a stated as an observation and not a 'maybe'.

_Dammit!_

"Yeah," Wally shifted his feet, "but I'd rather not go into that."

"Hrm...Don't trust me."

"Well..." the speedster hedged.

"Wise of you."

Wally blushed at the odd praise. He scratched the back of his head. "Yeah...thanks? And sorry...maybe I'll tell you about it later?" He really didn't want to. His relationship with M.V. had become something special. Something that was between him and M.V...like a secret pen pal. Wally didn't need to ask to know M.V. felt the same way.

"Wait there."

Vic went into his kitchen while an emotional Wally mentally ran through his 'calming' litany devised while in Luthor's _care_. The detective came back with a glass soda bottle (the chemical cocktails used in plastic bottles were highly suspect), set it down by Wally then moved over to a stack of papers and folders and slipped a less ratty-looking ringed binder out from under a few of them. He shoved it under the speedster's nose.

"Recent history; first drink that." He pointed at the bottle. "Ginger ale," Vic clarified. It helped to calm nerves and West was a walking bundle of them. "Would offer stronger, but best stayed sober." He didn't add the "just in case" as by now West understood the need to be clear headed and ready to take off at the first sign of trouble. Inebriation in the 'hero business' was for the foolhardy who wanted to end up the poster child for the Darwin Awards.

"Ginger Spice?" Wally eyed the label with distaste. Afraid his host had (by his soured expression) become offended by that, he hastened to reassure him. "It's fine. Just...trust me, that's _not_ one of my fave phrases of the year."

The Question didn't push for a detailed explanation since he'd previously hacked into and read Superman's personal log after rescuing West, so had already made the distasteful connection. He went back to sit at his laptop.

Vic had more notes to make and an abbreviation to research.

For his part, Wally considered the binder for a moment before taking a small sip of the stomach-settling drink. Now that he had some facts literally in hand he was a little afraid to see what was inside.

_'For heaven's sake...just open it! How awful could it be compared to what I've already been through?_ He flipped open the binder and speed scanned the first set of clippings.

Then again...

Wally downed the rest of the bottle's contents in one gulp before steeling himself for a more thorough read.

* * *

* THE DAILY PLANET *

_Special Editor's Edition!_

**THE FLASH DECLARED DEAD!**

_DID SUPERMAN BETRAY TEAM MATE?_

Even as the Twin Cities reel in shock over the demise of their lauded hero, coincidental evidence suggests The Man of Steel's moral foundation has rusted. Rumors continue to spread like wildfire that _Superman_ was responsible for sending Central City's beloved _The Flash_ to his death on a mission the alien knew would end badly. Superman has been detained for questioning. The Watchtower's remaining Founders refuse to say anything other than they are conducting their own investigation and so far have found no evidence suggesting foul play on the part of the Justice League.

In related news, twin municipalities Central City and Keystone have viewed the evidence and conceded that there is no way the hero could have survived. They have teamed for a memorial service to be conducted at an as yet undisclosed date and to be held in Unity Park. (Located between the twin cities borders.) A candle light vigil will follow at Central City's Flash Museum which was recently re-opened to the public. The Justice League has promised to donate a spare-and more publicly palatable-Flash uniform for the ceremonies since the body-or pieces of it as the original's state suggests-was never recovered.

LexCorp (who generously posted a million dollar reward for news on the then missing Flash) has appropriated for forensic testing the bloody and slashed remnants of the one that was found. They expect to announce results on this priority project sometime next week .

* * *

TWIN CITIES TRIBUNE

_WALLACE RUDOLPH WEST_ **WAS** _THE FLASH!_

LEXCORP ANNOUNCES RESULTS ON SUPER HERO SUIT!

After a week of intense and round-the-clock lab work, LexCorp announced today the ironic twist that the recently deceased _The Flash_ was in fact a young forensic worker employed by  The Central City Police Department. Employees there admitted that _West_ has not been seen at the workplace. The same was said at his place of residence.

_The Flash_ is reputed by  LexCorp detectives to have been killed when he was caught by unknown assailants while infiltrating Wayne Enterprises (then reportedly under suspect by The Justice League of dealing in synthetic hallucinogens banned world-wide.) Multi-Billionaire _Bruce Wayne_ -owner of Wayne Enterprises-has denied the claims that they were involved in drug dealing, the hero's death, or that they were tipped off about the League spy by _Superman_. However,  LexCorp has backed up their accusations with hair and skin evidence gathered from the suit worn by _The Flash_ and by phone records reputedly confiscated from the Wayne computers. An investigation is being conducted on  Wayne Enterprises, The Justice League, and _Superman_ by the Federal government.

*0*

According to his neighbors and coworkers, _Wallace or 'Wally' West_ was a personable young man who enjoyed working with kids, was usually cheerful and hard working, but frequently would call out from work or take 'half days'. All fitting with the personality of _The Flash_ and a founding League member who would often be called by the  Justice League 24/7 for missions.

_West_ is said to have lived alone and had no living relatives or other social ties other than his friends at C.C.P.D. Forensics, the Central City orphanage, and presumably the Justice League.

*0*

The Justice League has officially filed a protest against LexCorp, citing that it was not LexCorp's place to either keep the Flash's uniform remains or announce The Flash's identity so early as the body still remains missing. However, polls currently show people agree LexCorp was within their rights having been the one to find the uniform. The Justice League and C.C.P.D have had to put moratoriums on non-essential phone calls as they and West's apartment building have been inundated with calls from those eager for any news regarding the relatively well-known celebrity's personal life and the current status of the renowned super hero group.

_Do you agree with LexCorp or The Justice League stance on divulging the identity of super heroes so early? Let us know what you think at our online poll at TwinCitiesTribune/Entertainment(dot)com_

* * *

Related News:

* Resentment against meta humans growing despite past heroism displayed by ones such as The Flash. (See page 6 for released details)

* Lex Luthor declares interest in the Presidency while attending as special guest speaker at The Flash Memorial Service. Says metas like Superman a threat to others and need to be controlled for the public's safety. Special guest speaker positions were originally assigned by Wallace Rudolph West's authenticated Last Will & Testament to be held by coworkers Superman and The Green Lantern. However, the League had been unexpectedly banned from attending just hours before the event via special court order. (page 14)

* Superman believes The Flash may yet be alive. Vows to keep search open. Wonder Woman expressed sorrow of her lost team mate. Batman reportedly declined to comment. (page 22)

* LexCorp releases financial data on cost per city of damages incurred from superhero battles. (page 23)

* LexCorp enlists aid of major University Psychology departments nationwide to investigate links between super heroes and any corresponding proliferation in super villains. Suggests eliminating one will eliminate the other.

* * *

* THE DAILY PLANET *

_Special Editor's Edition!_

**SUPERMAN ACQUITTED!**

CENTRAL & KEYSTONE CRY FOUL OVER VERDICT!

Both the U.N. World Court and The League have found Superman not guilty of conspiracy to murder based on a lack of solid evidence.

Lex Luthor expressed disappointment in the current judicial processes. His sentiments were echoed by Twin Cities Central and Keystone which have declared Superman _person non grata_ within their city limits. Even inside the League there would seem to be doubts to the Man of Steel's veracity as several members have turned in their badges. Most notable of these being Wonder Woman who has vowed to return to her island of Amazon warriors and have nothing more to do with Man's World.

Superman continues to declare his innocence and the possibility that The Flash lives, stating that he'd always considered The Flash as a valued member of the League if a little young and impulsive. _"I believe that he would have one day grown beyond that-was growing beyond that. His death was truly tragic-if true. However, they have yet to produce a body. Considering that, the signing of his death certificate seems suspiciously rushed."_

In contrast, Lex Luthor (founder and CEO of LexCorp) believes that Superman had become jealous of The Flash's popularity after the latter saved the world and Mr. Luthor from the alien and malicious Brainiac virus, _stating: "while Superman had fallen short in being worthy of his name being soundly defeated by the menace, The Flash came through with spectacular results. I firmly believe Superman capable of premeditated murder. He's very prideful and has made many expensive mistakes before because of it. One need only look at the Watchtower's former laser gun and his catastrophic battle with Captain Marvel. Personal property damage was in the billions."_

Whichever story you choose to believe, it can not be denied that more than 70% of the Justice League has opted out citing "Moral conflicts and disenchantment with the current leadership."

* * *

_Dear gods._

Wally could hardly believe it. Wouldn't if he didn't trust Question's to keep documented records.

So that's what Luthor had been up to when not harassing his captive? It also explained why he had been so brutalized that first day in captivity: they needed cellular tissue and plenty of it for the fraud.

And Clark...poor Clark and Bruce trying to defend their honor..not allowed at his funeral? How could so many of the League believe lying _Luthor_ over Superman and Batman? That was insanity on the level of giving The Creeper the key to the Batmobile!

Head spinning, Wally put the binder down only to have The Question start a print out and hand it over as well as another ginger ale.

_There was more?_

* * *

** Under-The-Wire:com **

_The news the others are afraid to print!_

_JUST IN!_ (from Editor:) Mere hours ago all signals coming from  The Watchtower went dead. Witnesses say that The Green Lantern was spotted depositing several of the remaining League members outside Omaha, Nebraska, but it is unknown as yet what may have happened to their orbiting base. Superman was reported to be looking intensely ill-more so than after his battle with Doomsday. Immediately upon landing everyone, Green Lantern was said to have created a stretcher and taken Superman on a northern heading.

If anyone local can verify this with video, send email to EditorUnder_The_Wiretruthwilloutemailnet.

This news hound can't help but wonder...

Could The Flash be continuing his blood-thirsty vendetta against those that wronged him as some sort of meta human version of The Crow? Or has he simply gone insane? First LexCorp and now The Watchtower! I suspect Keystone and Central City had better prepare for a blood bath from this not-so-deceased doom bringer!

_LATEST!_ LEX LUTHOR OFFICIALLY THROWS HAT IN RING FOR PRESIDENCY

PLATFORM TO BE REGULATION OF META HUMAN THREAT TO WORLD

_NEW: THIS WEEK!_

~ Superman seen carrying man-sized bundle away from doomed LexCorp H.Q. Media on fire with speculation on what or who it was.

~ Polls show trust of superheroes fallen 80%

~ Luthor's popularity with American media rises to 72% in wake of new meta crisis.

~ Central City closes Flash Museum until further notice. City council debates building peace park in it's place.

~ Federal Government declared The Flash Public Enemy No.1!

~ Hub City's Stryker Prison allows early release of psychiatric care prisoner. Cites paperwork error.

~ Lex Luthor claims LexCorp destroyed by insane Wally West. Demands that metas be controlled and West captured or killed.

* * *

"This is..." Wally searched for the proper word or phrase and came up empty. "I don't know how to categorize it."

"Filed it under Flash Conspiracy."

Wally flipped the binder over to see that it was, indeed, titled that way via permanent ink. "A conspiracy named after me? I don't know what to say. How thoughtful of you. Now I feel bad for not getting you anything."

"Sarcasm noted." Wally could have sworn the man was again smirking under that mask.

_-Wally, BRUCE-_

_Bats? What about Batman? Strange...that doesn't sound like a warning as before with J'onn just before the Martian had attacked._

He got up and went to the shuttered window to peer between the reinforced slats when the voice failed to elaborate, unaware that Sage had installed security monitors so that he'd never _have_ to do something as inherently dangerous as stand in front of the window to see out.

It was still dark outside with very few working lights to illuminate the area.

"Vic, I think we may be having-" _There! Something a silvery jade and disturbingly familiar was moving between buildings. "Dragon J'onn."_

His peripheral vision caught another movement. Wally warily eyed the darkness, his body vibrating with tension. He could have sworn the shadows cast by dim street lights had momentarily held the silhouette of the Batman holding up something...

_"Wally! Get away from the window!"_

The silvery object jerked violently then stilled, falling out of sight. The moment had nearly stretched into two as Wally sweated. The impressive figure of Gotham's Dark Knight took a half step into the twilight area between the shadows and the light. He had some sort of gun raised.

_At him! BATMAN WAS_ _ AIMING _ _AT HIM!_

_Shit!_

Green eyes widened as Batman pulled the trigger. As he did, Question's hand yanked him aside just as something slightly larger than your ordinary bullet broke through both glass pane and steel shutter slats.

As the sleek projectile safely passed by his head, the thought occurred to Wally that if anyone knew The Flash could not be hit by a bullet he had advanced warning of it would be Batman. Furthermore, it was debatable whether Bruce had even been able to see Flash standing there. However, he didn't feel like taking any chances what with how Batman had just shot someone or something else the meta was almost certain had been J'onn in his dragon form. There might be anything from an explosive to a malignant gas in that miniature missile.

Speaking of which...

Wally reflexively reached out with his closest arm, instinctively willing the bullet to slow. The projectile decelerated to a crawl as his fingers grasped it and _siphoned away the thing's motion_. He then sped up just his body in preparation to chuck the thing back outside before it coughed up whatever nasty surprise was inside.

_-NO-_

_The speed quickly dissipated from all his voluntary muscles as Wally abruptly aborted his maneuver. He looked at what he held in his hand. Time reverted to normal._

An iPod jump drive in some sort of clear, bullet shaped container? Well, something that looked similar to the newest version of the music device, yet was even smaller than that. Also (luckily for his hand) cool to the touch despite having just been shot out of the barrel of a gun.

When he glanced back out the damaged window, Batman was gone.

"Curiouser and curiouser..." Question quoted the famous line as he released his hold on Wally's other arm.

"Batman just shot J'onn." _Batman shot and possibly killed J'onn._

"Plausible."

Wally wordlessly handed the minuscule recorder to Sage who managed to look unruffled as he inspected the hole in his window. The man had potentially saved his life. If he couldn't trust him, he might as well become a hermit right now.

"Space aged plastics...armor piercing tip...definite Wayne Enterprise tech...Through The Looking Glass..." Vic muttered with what Wally figured was The Question's version of joyful exclamations. He waited while the jump drive was checked for malware and downloading progressed. His computer revealed that there were two files on the drive. One was dated earlier, but the newer had CLICK ME as the name. Question dutifully did so. A complicated program started that seemed to be checking for the authenticity of _Sage's_ computer.

"Cheeky bugger," Wally couldn't help but grin as they watched the program do it's thing. "Looks like Batman is paranoid too."

"Hrm."

"Vic," Flash waited until his host looked at him, " _Curiouser and Curiouser? Through The Looking Glass? Click Me?_ Am I hallucinating or are those not all references to  Alice In Wonderland?"

"Not hallucinating. Good observational instincts."

Wally blushed. "That's twice you've given me a compliment."

"Doesn't the League?"

"Well, _yeah_ ," Wally's response and posture went on the defensive. He almost immediately deflated, ruefully rubbing the back of his head...the spot on his skull GL loved to target when he figured Flash had earned a bit of disciplining. "Er...not so much for my _thinking skills_...but when I do something patently only The Fastest Man Alive can do. Generally, run really _really_ fast."

"Work?"

"The speedster brightened. "My boss thinks I've got potential in forensics work and isn't shy about it."

"That tells you?"

Wally sighed and looked away in embarrassment. "That...I take mundane work more seriously than saving people? That I'm not grown up enough to rate as a serious super hero?"

"Defeating Brainiac taught you nothing?" Wally's brow furrowed until Vic explained, " _Underestimating_ yourself is just as dangerous as _overestimating_. Enemies will use it against you. Sometimes friends. Look for the truth."

"You're saying that saving the world is more inherently stressful than catching a white-collar crook," Wally thoughtfully tapped his foot on the floor as he considered it. "So I use more humor to compensate for more stress. The League only sees me on missions and not at my other work. They only see my _Flashy Wally_ side who revels in childish fun and not _Mr. West_ who is a dedicated professional. View is distorted. Like in the Wonderland mirror. Hrm."

"Hrm," The Question agreed. "Don't ruin the floor."

Wally stopped tapping his foot before the floor burst into flame. The speedster allowed a smaller smile to grace his lips than he usually gave while in the company of other League members. He couldn't swear to it, but Wally realized the man behind the mask was pleased with him. That felt good like a 10-course, uninterrupted meal. Like running flat out just for the sake of running. Like..

The computer beeped.

Vic turned on his speakers as the audio file began to play.

.

_"Code: Twas brillag. Password...Jabberwocky."_

_"Code: Has thou slain the Jabberwock? Password...White Rabbit."_

_"Borogroves...Password...Cheshire Cat."_

_"I take it 'My Wayward Son' has been found?"_

_"Yes."_

_"And?"_

_"My Son has...he's the March Hare."_

_"He's insane."_

.

The Question thoughtfully tapped a tune on the tabletop. (The speed was much slower than the speedster's toe tapping, so the table was safe from combustion.) Wally recognized the melody from the popular animated Alice In Wonderland film version.

"I was right." Vic told his guest. "Batman kept up his correspondence after the initial contact."

"Um...this is awkward because you just gave me an ego boost, but I feel like Alice in that I am _so_ lost here," the speedster confessed. "It looks like Batman shot out your window so as to deliver a recording of what sounded like Batman, Superman, and J'onn talking in some sort of Wonderland code? Is that his usual style of message delivery? Should I offer him the services of _FMAExpress_ to save on your repair bills?"

God he was on the verge of freaking out.

The Question stopped his tapping.

"Months before your kidnapping, Batman received a communique from the Justice Lord dimension warning him that you would become a danger. After your disappearance, Batman asked me to help him search for you. I agreed, but also looked into other things as well and found out some interesting truths." The detective didn't move, but the sense of _smugness_ coming from him was as palpable as Green Arrow's body odor after fighting that giant Chinese robot.

Wally had the opposite problem.

"Me?" Wally tried and failed to suppress a nervous giggle, then sobered as he remembered LexCorp and his epiphany. Still...The Flash...dangerous? Maybe to the villains.

_Superman is bloodied._

Not just to villains.

Oh...dear...no. No. Was he turning into a monster? Something half deranged and nigh unstoppable?

"Hm. Happened there in the Lord's Earth," The Question said nothing about Wally's sudden lack of skin tone. "That Flash discovered his power were more than putting one foot in front of the other faster than anyone else. His team mates feared he wouldn't be able to learn to control it just as fast. His ignorance threatened the very stability of the planet."

"Um..back key? Did you say...the planet?" the speedster felt queasy; like his stomach needed to purge before his mind could process much of anything.

"They decided to kill your other self in a defensive strike using Lex Luthor as the means to an end. Luthor killed the Flash, but the process of assassinating their own ended up destroying their moral boundaries and paving the way for their mutation into the Justice Lords."

"Wait a mo- _the planet?_ "

"Our Batman didn't trust them, but realized that they could be right about your untapped potential. Also that your self-esteem was low-just as was the other Flash's."

" _I can destroy the Earth?_ " Wally practically whimpered out.

Giving in to the inevitable Question gave a small sigh of forced patience. "Hrm."

_"Whoooaa..."_ Wally sat heavily on the floor as the idea fully sunk in. "As if maiming Superman wasn't bad enough...now I'm a literal global menace. No wonder everyone's afraid of me." An apologetic gaze slid over to his host. "Except for you. That's kind of funny, huh? The most paranoid of the League trusts me the most." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks."

Question ignored it. Thank you's could be exchanged after their problems were resolved.

" _Our_ Batman came to a different conclusion than the Lord's. He figured that it was the overly _lack_ of ego support that made the other Flash a danger. He asked Superman to assign you the mission of spying on a LexCorp's minor facility. They had originally planned to send a more _non-essential_ member, but Batman insisted you could handle it and that the show of trust would boost your self esteem. Superman agreed."

"But because nothing in my life is that simple..."

"Something went wrong. Nobody knows what...no, West, not even I _and it was me who was originally chosen to go in before you replaced me_." Vic sounded a bit peeved there, so Wally wisely kept his mouth shut. "Luthor knew when and where you'd be and captured you."

"Superman?" Wally tentatively guessed, thinking back on the contents of that mind-blowing binder.

"Had no reason to betray you. Batman told him of the Justice Lords Flash problem afterward, not before. Also, the League was still acting normal. Superman, Batman, and the Martian hadn't yet revised their hierarchy and created the Triumvirate to rule over the smaller League; a downwards career move Stewart was not thrilled by. The Thanagarian exile did not seem to care about the loss of prestige and power, but looks can be deceiving." Wally inwardly sighed that Vic still refused to trust Shayera even after she disowned her 'sleeper' background, but the man _was_ paranoid.

"So who? And why are _you_ still normal?" He muttered under his breath, "Well, relatively speaking."

Question tilted his head, considering sharing his idea. "I have a theory regarding iPods and electromagnetic field wormholes..."

"Stay with me, Vic," Wally pleaded before more of what the speedster considered to be the loony side of Sage broke through. He really didn't want to listen just now about how Apple was rife with worms or had more undeclared illegal immigrants than ancient Troy's gift horse. "Just...why was I left to stew at LexCorp?"

"Hrm..."

"Oh indeed... _Hrm_." (More info, less dramatics, please. Wally lifted an eyebrow at Sage's air of annoyance at the light mockery. As The Fastest Man Alive, he should be forgiven the odd bit of impatience.)

"Simple. No one knew for certain you were there. Luthor cannily started a campaign that Superman had spilled the beans on your mission and that metas were dangerous. The League was fracturing as some believed Luthor over Superman. Public opinion turned towards Luthor's lies as well seeing how so many League members refused to stay on what might be a sinking ship. Superman was tied up with court orders. The others were needed to continue with missions. Batman and I were the only other ones with both the desire and ability to keep looking for the truth with Batman as a 'part-timer' seeing as Bruce Wayne was also dragged into legal matters. When Luthor announced it was you who destroyed LexCorp, he twisted it to look like you'd become either a rogue out for wholesale revenge or had been taken over by the Brainiac virus you'd supposedly defeated-and now want to destroy the world."

"Crap."

"Hrm."

_Wally revised his estimation of the sound/meaning of 'hrm'. It actually related a mouthful._

"So Luthor is behind this whole mess from sub-basement to rafters."

"Perhaps."

The speedster slapped a balled right hand against his left palm. "Yeah, so we have to... _What?"_ Wally's green eyes were large _._ That was not what he'd expected.

_Déjà vu._

"You didn't ask me why I still left the League while believing Superman's claim of innocence."

"I didn't want to be rude?" (Literal blank stare from Sage; Wally rolled his eyes.) " _Okay_ , why did you 'exit stage left' if you considered Supes to still being pure as the driven snow?"

"Polite behavior has to take a back seat to gaining the truth. All things are connected. A puzzle. You can't see the pattern without all the pieces laid out. Also, nobody is pure or innocent. Shadows cross every soul."

"I got it, Master Po." Wally deadpanned. Question inwardly sighed the additional _Kung Fu_ jab.

"Inaccurate. Not bald."

"Not at the top of your head, no." Wally pointing a finger at Sage's mask. He grinned to let Sage know he didn't really mean anything by the banter. It was all stress relief. Question inclined his head in silent acknowledgment that he already knew this.

"The signs pointed that the Watchtower was compromised. As a free agent, I could continue my work under less scrutiny."

"And you found?"

The Question directed Wally's attention back to the news clipping from the UnderTheWire website.

"Mere hours after your escape, Luthor broke out a man capable of affecting people's minds. I believe he is using this person to destroy the League, twist human perceptions, and hunt you down. However, strange things happened _before_ your capture."

"Strange things always happened to the League," Wally shrugged. "It kind of goes with the spandex."

"Very probably. The molecular properties of spandex create a favorable environment for chaos equations to proliferate at a microscopic level. If you used organic dry cleaning chemicals more frequently, it-"

It was all Wally could do not to face palm.

"Uh, Vic..save that 100-piece jigsaw puzzler for later? Matter _at hand?_ "

Hrm... Do you remember the events of a year ago?"

_-Wally..Go Home-_

West's mouth tightened in irritation. M.V. had been silent for quite awhile. _Now_ , it wanted to talk?

"Yeah?"

"All of them?" The speedster was feeling confused again.

"Would I be able to tell if I _didn't?_ " Wally asked in exasperation. "I thought so, but thanks to _you and your tendency to find ninjas holing up in tea kettles_ now I'm not so sure."

"You're welcome.. _.Grasshopper_."

Screw self control...Wally did that face palm.

Question nodded as he brought up a highly encrypted file marked 'CCI'. "The Central City Incident happened precisely one year ago from tomorrow."

Green eyes reappeared so that both hands were free to make quotation marks in the air. "Central City Incident?"

_-Wally GO home NOW-_

_"Hrm."_

"Uh..." Wally drew a blank on any mission or news report called that. "Something happened at my home town and nobody told me?"

"You were there."

_-Home NOW-_

" _I was..._ Okay, _now your pulling my leg?_ Central is my turf," Wally pointed out. "I'd remember anything that happened in it that I was a part of."

Vic ignored the younger man's indignation. "Do you recall being in a coma for a month afterward?"

"Er... _no?_ " Wally meeped at this news. He had been in a coma?

(Well, again. One got a variety of owies when you worked with cosmic forces and against deranged demi-gods. It was just that he tended to recall when he was laid up because, if nothing else, someone would remind him of _why_ he was laid up and not to do that -fill in the blank- stupid thing again.)

_-WALLY GO HOME NOW!-_

_The blast made him wince. Please, M.V., it can wait. It has to wait!_ Question was about to reveal something huge. He could feel it. Last thing he wanted was for Sage to switch to asking Wally about why the speedster was making odd facial expressions. Answering that could turn awkward.

"Hm. Persistent amnesia. Maybe this will remind you." Moving aside a little so that Wally would have an unimpeded view of his laptop screen, Vic hit Play on the video controller.

"An in-house movie with no popcorn? That's almost criminal, Vic."

* * *

The first full second of the movie was pure boring.

That changed fast.

Wally watched in fascination as a red and gold blur went by, followed by a blue and red one...then green with snazzy suspenders.

Easy to recognize the Justice League founders.

_'Hey, nobody could claim that superheroes weren't a colorful bunch!'_ Eh..except for Batman. Bats doesn't do bright colors other than the requisite corporate logo. They'd undoubtedly clash with his Bat Glare & Scowl accessories.

So far everything looked par the course. Most of the other Founders were there...fighting...a...something? The _hell_? Was there something smudging the camera lens that day? Distortion? Were those charged tentacles of pure energy? _What the fuck? Okay, that_ _couldn't_ _be him there running around helping the others! He'd have remembered battling something so_ _weird_ _._

(The Flash suddenly come to a dead stop as the others continued to fight)

("Hey, guys-wait a sec. It's _weird_ , but I don't think...")

(A tendril of energy lashed out and touched the red and gold figure, who was thrown backwards to smack into a wall, then went sliding down with a thin blood trail smearing the bricks behind him)

("Flash!" Superman flying down looking very concerned.)

(Tendril of distortion hitting the camera view straight on)

The picture went dark.

* * *

_-Wally...Go Home-_

Wally ignored the voice and it's plaintive turn. He stared at the black video window on the laptop, trying to hard swallow his heart back down from where it had taken to thumping away in his throat. "I... _this happened? This_ _so_ _did not happen!_ "

Okay, he was freaking. He knew he was freaking and he didn't care that he was freaking because...that video could _not_ be real no matter what Vic said because _if it was real..._

"One year ago from noon tomorrow," The Question affirmed, still cool as a cucumber while his guest appeared anything but. "This file was logged into the Justice League mission file then. All the Founders present made similar personal logs on the event; except for you.

"And nobody _told_ me I'd been made a wall decoration by a..a...what _was_ that thing?" (That hypnotically alluring, mind trippingly-beautiful thing...that scared the hell out of him yet made him want to touch it at the same time.)

"Diagnosed emotionally and physically handicapped after you came out of the coma. Fire left after weeks of trying to deal with your deep depression and anger. When some sign of recovery appeared, Batman suggested the 'easy' mission. Meant to help."

"Help." Dragging shaking hands through his red hair, Wally almost laughed at that. "Instead I got captured because someone tipped off Luthor...someone no one has a clue as to the identity of." God, could this get any worse?

"Hm."

_-Wally...go Home now-_

_'What...are you asking, this time, M.V.?'_

Wally looked at Sage and came to a decision. He couldn't cope with this alone; not even with his auditory invisible friend. It was time for sharing.

"I should ask M.V about this."

It was The Question's turn to be confused. He had looked up the letters in his data bases and came up with nothing other than things like Motor Vehicles. He doubted West was consulting with a state auto organization.

"Mystery Voice," Wally clarified for him. "Clever, huh? Named it myself."

"An information contact named Mystery Voice?" Vic hazarded

"A voice in my head."

" _You_.." (Question felt compelled to have this clarified) "have a voice in your head?" He mulled it over. "Via com-link?"

"No...just a voice."

"In your _head?_ "

Wally crossed his arms. "I'm _not_ crazy."

"Didn't say were."

The speedster sulked at the perceived disbelief coming from the conspiracy theorist.

"I call it M.V. because it never shared its name. It reminds me of you, actually; all paranoid and stuff, yet pretty spot on in what it tells me. I thought for awhile it might _be_ you. Is it?" Wally studied the blank face for a reaction, but conceded the pointlessness of it and gave up.

"Not that I'm aware. Tell me about this voice." The Question's tone had taken on a deadly serious air that brought a chill to Wally's blood.

_-Wally Go Home...Not Trust-_

_M.V., he's telling me stuff I need to learn. I'll head home afterward._

_-Wally Not..-_

"Um...It sounds like I do..I mean like I do to other people's ears, but it's like stunted or something and can only speak in short sentences with a limited vocabulary of words to work with. On the other hand it seems to know everything about me-more than I do. Mostly it tells me to fear everyone...except for you..." _(at least until now)_ "which was why I was suspicious it was really you all along." He took a deep breath that was a bit faster than normal. This turn in the conversation was seriously creeping him out even more than it had already. "Actually, now that I think on it, M.V. only said you knew me. Not that you didn't fear me."

"Not you I'm afraid of."

_-Wally GO HOME NOW-_

_-NOT LISTEN QUESTION-_

_-GO HOME NOW-_

"Ah." Wally swallowed thickly, not liking where this was going or that M.V. was sounding ever increasingly agitated. "Why are you so curious about M.V.?"

The Question opened another file he'd 'borrowed' from the League data banks. "The Stryker Prison release. Luthor broke out _John Dee_ the night you destroyed LexCorp in Metropolis."

_Aw...fuck, not the dream meister!_

John Dee-the man who was self-nicknamed _Doctor Destiny,_ the nutcase whom had tried to kill the original Seven by trapping them in their nightmares. Dee had come perilously close to destroying Shayera with claustrophobia. Flash had been subjugated to an existence where his speed was stuck so high that everything else seemed frozen and colorless. A severely sleep-deprived Batman had hunted down Dee. In their scuffle the madman had subsequently fallen on his own powerful sedative syringe meant to down the Dark Knight. J'onn had simultaneously freed everyone else within the mad man's grip.

Now this self-same Doctor Destiny was likely in partnership with Flash's worst enemy...with both Dee and Luthor very appraised of his phobias and weaknesses.

What Question was hinting at suddenly hit him like an Acme anvil.

_Oh shit no. No no no nononononono..._ "You...you think Mystery Voice is _actually_ _Dee_?"

"Probability is high."

Dee in his mind...making him crazy...how much of what he'd been experiencing was real?

"And the thing we fought?"

"Unknown. Most likely origin? Released from his dream dimension."

* * *

_Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man.  
Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man.  
I can hear the voices when I'm dreaming..._

_I can hear them say_...

* * *

_-Wally-_

Bunching his fists, Wally grit his teeth in anger at his personal intruder. He had no idea how to block M.V.'s (or rather, _John Dee's!)_ cancerous thoughts from his mind.

"Shut up, Dee," he growled out loud for Vic's benefit so the investigator would have a clue as to what was happening. "You played me for a fool and I fell for it. I'm not going to listen to your _advice_ anymore." He gestured at his head. Vic nodded his understanding.

_-Wally go home...Not betray-_

"Not listening."

_-Threat Hub City-_

"Because I would be so much better off in Luthor's hands?" Wally scowled in Question's general direction. "He's waiting to trap me _at Central City_ , isn't he? Wants me to _run home_ just like he's been telling you to urge me to do _all day_. Well, he can't kiss my ass or anyplace else because I'm not going anywhere I don't want to."

_-Chip-_

"What?" The single word threw West for a loop. He'd been expecting more encouragements to 'go home' What kind of argument was 'chip'?

_-Luthor know...chip...Want Hurt Wally...Go to Wally...Anywhere...hurt Question...Hurt Anyone-  
_  
Holey Swiss Cheese!

Chip! _The_ chip!

"Chip..." The GPS chip embedded in his spine. With everything...he'd forgotten about the thing.

Vic literally saw the color drain from West's face.

"Still talking?" he rhetorically asked. The inquiry was mostly just to get West's attention on him and off whatever had been communicated between the speedster and Dee that made the meta look ready to faint.

"Yeah," Wally exhaled the word, mind in a turmoil.

"Threatening?" _Obviously so; Vic wasn't stupid._

"Yeah... No...gods." Wally blinked. "He's reminding me that I have a GPS chip in my lowest vertebrae. It's situated very near the spinal cord and set to explode and destroy the nerve and that vertebrae if fiddled with incorrectly. Luthor had it put in...to keep track of my movements should I ever escape." He took a shaky breath while wiping at his sweaty forehead. "How could I have forgotten it? He probably knew I was at the Watchtower. He knows I'm here. Gods, Vic, those Special Forces goons from yesterday night!" He stared at Question in horror.

Sage flipped on his outside security cameras and studied the outside. It looked quiet. "Had a whole night to track you. Why aren't they here?"

"Maybe they did come?" Wally asked, not at all eased by the peaceful view.

"No...but someone else was sent." Question faced Wally. "You witnessed J'onn hunting in his serpent form...just before Batman shot him."

"But J'onn's a telepath," Wally protested. "He defeated Dee before."

"Hrm... _before_ isn't _now._ Stakes changed. Something new has altered equations." He rubbed his chin. "J'onn...yet neither Batman nor I are affected."

"Vic, this has gotten too dangerous. I have to go. If it was Luthor and Dee controlling J'onn, they know he failed to kill me."

"Or capture."

"Whatever, just listen! They'll send someone else or come themselves. Our being together is putting you at risk. Dee even said so."

Whatever Sage was going to reply was interrupted by a shrill beep from the laptop. On the screen, the other file that Wally had taken for the verification software had changed names.

WEST CLICK ME NOW

Brain impulses that dealt with logic were undoubtedly far slower than those that dealt with physical movement because Wally impulsively clicked on it before a wiser head could stop him. Quickly, the letters of the file's name rearranged themselves and began to _scroll out a message:_

I WILL HOLD OFF ANY ATTACKERS FOR ONE HOUR

"Vic, this your-"

Electrical sparks jumped from the keyboard to wrap around Wally's hand. The pain was intense, yet mercifully brief. The sudden darkening of his eyesight was not. He didn't even feel it as an alarmed Question yanked his sagging body away from the laptop.

"Wally?"

Sage dragged the unresponsive West back onto the couch and quickly checked for life signs. The green eyes were dilated at different sizes and the pulse slow, but it was holding steady.

"Induced coma. Stable. How?" He grabbed the hand that had been electrified turned it palm up. "Patterned electrical attack to a hyper metabolic nervous system via palm and finger receptors. Would require prior physiology knowledge of victim and pinpoint accuracy..." He briskly stepped back over the the active laptop, careful not to touch it. This smacked of advanced technology that was beyond current human ability. Possibly magic was involved. "Internet connection...impulses directed by sender. Where? Back Trace signal. Could be dangerous. Have to try."

Following a bit of intuition, The Question rummaged through his computer desk drawer and fished out some grounded and insulated gloves used by hackers to safely work on computers. He carefully slipped them on and adjusted the grounding wire. That done, he hesitated, then touched his laptop.

Life was nothing with Truth.

No sparks leaped out to electrocute him. The attack had been specifically meant for West alone or was a one-time set up.

"Hrm."

Setting the cursor over the offensive file, he highlighted the once again unmoving title and rapidly typed, 'Who are you?' without really expecting a reply.

He still got one.

WALLY KNOWS ME

'John Dee?'

TRUTH LIKE BEAUTY IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER MAN OF QUESTIONS

'What have you done to West?'

HE IS UNHARMED. ONLY...DREAMING.

* * *

A/N: The song bits are from the singing group Kansas. Song: Carry On My Wayward Son. Absolutely awesome song and lyrics.

  
  



	8. The Central City Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 8 and nine were supposed to be one...but got way too long and my modem is acting up...again. Posting in two parts.
> 
> Dreams were weird things.  
> Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Sometimes something right out of Alice in Wonderland.  
> This one fell into the latter category.
> 
> And if it wasn't a dream at all?  
> Well, that was a category all in itself.

**Chapter 8: Requiem For A Dream: Central C Incident**

* * *

**A/N:** Flash Fact Info found in (Pre-Sept 2011) canon comics: Twin Cities straddle either side of a river. Central is Missouri/Keystone is Kansas. Wally rebuilt the main bridge between the two with his own hands within seconds after Blacksmith nearly destroyed the original. Keystone was mainly blue collar industry-especially auto; Central was white collar businesses. Barry Allen worked in Central as a police forensic scientist; Wally made a living as a police grease monkey-and a good one, too. Timm just combined the two and basically scrapped the existence of Keystone...which was kind of funny considering that for many years Keystone had disappeared and only Central existed from the perspective of the outside world. The Twin Cities were really big on sports...specifically hockey. Both Wally and Captain Cold rooted for The Combines when they played home games.

**Clarification!** Events here are in threes. First and and last are marked as Question's Apartment. The other two are mixed together, but with divider lines to separate them some. Italics are events of The Central City Incident as seen through the eyes of the League. Regular font is from the pov of current time Wally West.

* * *

.

There are sufferings that have lost their memory and do not remember why they are suffering. ~Antonio Porchia, _Voces_ , 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin

.

* * *

.

[Question's Apartment]

HE IS UNHARMED. ONLY...DREAMING.

The words stayed put on his laptop. They refused to be deleted or modified. He was, in effect, locked out of his own computer.

Which would not have been half as worrying if Vic'd had any inclination to believe that The Dark Knight of Gotham was at fault.

Sage could possibly kick Batman's ass if he caught Bruce by complete surprise. Dee...well, he'd have to first know where the cretin had taken refuge at. Somewhere with Luthor was the most probable; however, Luthor kept a lot of bolt holes for his worthy cronies.

On a whim, Vic kicked the leg of the table the computer sat upon.

HE IS UNHARMED. ONLY...DREAMING.

Not even a blip.

" _Only_ , being a subjective term," The Question muttered.

Victor Sage was about to type another question of the entity that had taken over his laptop when his apartment door burst in. The fact that none of his proximity alarms had gone off in advance did not stop him from having a gun in hand and aimed at the intruder the moment the doorknob hit the wall.

"Don't recall ordering special delivery," he told the shadowy figure gracing his threshold, "don't expect a tip."

"Consider it a free trial period." The man held his own gun directed at Vic's heart. They stared at each other for a moment, though The Question noted that his uninvited guest kept his body facing just a little towards the couch...where Vic's _uninvited_ guest lay comatose.

Question had a lot of enemies. It was why he wore a mask and kept state-of-the-art security for a man whose portfolio didn't hold Fortune 500 assets. Yes, he had plenty who were keen to settle a score, but Sage already knew exactly who he was dealing with at this particular moment and that the intruder was interested in West and not himself.

"Don't trust free offers. Often too _pricey_. Need I ask why you've come, Batman? Or should I say... _Lord_ Batman?

* * *

[Current time(?): Perceptions of Wally West]

"OW! Shit! Crap! Vic, you ever hear of anti-static wipes?" Wally groused as he rolled over on the floor, holding his slightly electrocuted hand tightly to his chest (the stinging sensation was a bitch.) "They come in little plastic tubs and you use them to-to..." he watched in incomprehension as a flock of birds flew overhead in a clear blue sky. "Whoa. Dude, did you know your apartment is, like, _lacking_ a ceiling?"

Shaking the pain from his abused appendage, Wally got onto his hands and knees. There were little bits of grit under his fingers.

_Oh, ew!_

Tearing his gaze away from the sky he looked down pretty much because he was afraid of what manner of filth Vic had neglected to mop up.

The _floor_ was no longer of rolled linoleum; it was asphalt. He stood up and considered the view from a betwixt ground and sky... the unexpected sight of familiar skyscrapers where moments before there had only been the four walls of a dingy apartment.

Like his ratty domicile, there was no sign of Question's whereabouts.

"Aw, man...something tells me I'm not in Illinois any more."

More like Kansas. Or rather _Missouri_ with Kansas and Keystone City right across the river if this was where it looked like he was. Geographically it wasn't impossible for The Fastest Man Alive to zip across Missouri and part of Illinois in the blink of an eye, but he usually managed the trip by putting his legs in motion first.

Had the Watchtower been fixed and they'd teleported him here? That didn't make sense. Why would they move him to Central City rather than beam him up or teleport the League's new death squad down to Hub City? Besides, he was more than familiar with what the Watchtower transporters felt like. Given events of the past year, he doubted there had been any time for implementing hardware changes to it.

There had also been that weird file on Vic's computer which he had stupidly clicked. Obviously, whomever was behind this little abduction knew of his impulsive streak and had taken advantage of it.

Oh well...no sense crying over spilled mochas... _very_ much. He was here now and (a final, confirming shake of his hand) in one piece. The day was young and so was he. Maybe there would be a chance to see how things might have changed at home before the populace matched his face to the _'Wanted!'_ posters.

"That's Broome and 12th Street." Nice part of town. "I'm pretty near the Flash Museum if they haven't demolished it yet to stem their disgrace at knowing my name. Maybe I can salvage some of the exhibits...like Jay Garrick's metal hat." He ruefully rubbed at his bare head. "I might need the extra head protection from all the rocks flung my way."

Wally muttered and sighed to himself," making and discarding a list of vague plans on what to do. It wasn't that he expected anyone to answer his one-sided conversation so much as because he really felt the need to talk with _someone_ about this unexpected quirk in his geographic location and there just wasn't anyone else available that he could see. The city or at least this small section of it was deserted; and wasn't that rather odd? He glanced around again before reaching up to rub at his eyes.

Nope...no change. Daytime and no pedestrians whatsoever. Or Rogues or a rampaging primate leading a gang of vandalizing, mind fucked minions, for that matter. He hadn't seen such emptiness in the streets of his hometown since...

_Oh...wait a second.  
_

Mind fucked. _  
_

Wally crossed his arms and loudly proclaimed to the heavens, "What, the Flash wouldn't come to Central City, so you brought Central City to the Flash, Dweeby Dee? That's cheating!" He angrily waited for a response, impatiently tapping a toe against the street's surface as the milliseconds rolled by. The fact that the asphalt wasn't growing soft from the friction heat his foot was generating confirmed that what he was seeing wasn't real; so West wondered what Dr Destiny was up to. Was this the madman's version of Stuck In High Velocity: The Sequel? He'd already seen the original, thank you muchly, and sequels of sucky movies tended to suck twice as much as the original stinker.

A red and gold blur went by. West's brain automatically compensated for the object's velocity. In a nanosecond the blurred image solidified into...The Flash? Wally's jaw dropped a bit.

Geez, had The Twin Cities gotten a replacement speedster already? If so, _how_ had they found a replacement? It wasn't like you could find one listed in adverts. There was no Speedster Trade Tech School to attend courses on.

Which was a damned pity because there were times when he could have used a textbook.

Well, years ago when he was still wet behind the ears. Not so much recently because, you know, he was the best Fastest Man Alive there was.

Which brought back the point that he wasn't exactly replaceable with some wannabe and how dare his cities think otherwise?

For a whole moment he felt all indignant.

Oh yeah...this whole thing wasn't _real_.

Chagrined, Wally ran a palm over his cheek. Seriously, it was too early in the a.m. for this. Evil shouldn't be allowed graveyard or morning shifts. Whenever he found (and jailed) the official Bad Guys Trade Union he'd have to bring that up.

Back to the madness at hand.

Superman flew by next, followed by a slower J'onn. Wally was undecided whether to call out to them or run and hide because maybe they were here to rescue him from Dee like before, but then again was it equally possible that they were out to murder him like the more recent version of before?

Moot point: they ignored the 'civilian' as if they hadn't seen or heard him. The speedster frowned, realizing they hadn't and why.

It was the scene from the video.

That improbable footage of some Central City Incident.

(He was _in_ the video?)

Then Superman opened his gob and...

Wally blinked in befuddlement when he distinctly heard Superman's voice in his head, followed by J'onzz's, and lastly, Batman's.

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_"Damn it, J'onn, it's like trying to stop an electrified storm front from rolling in. Never particularly cared for those. They tend to raise tornadoes or ice storms and wreck havoc on the farm. Give me a simple, summer rain shower any day. Come to that, I also dislike aliens that can not make up their mind what shape to stay in (present company excepted) and I'm none too thrilled either with ones that could somehow screw up a Javelin's electronics with just a touch."_

_"Or interfere with the Watchtower communications," J'onn agreed. "Wonder Woman is not having any success contacting our colleagues for reinforcements. Nor have I been able to determine the nature of this distortion. As you state, it does appear to have the qualities of an atmospheric disturbance, yet it's movements seem reactive in a way that suggests a living being. It puts me in mind of a hunter, searching for the weakest to cull from the herd."_

_"Living menace or a weather quirk, it's made me miss my date with Lois, so I'm a pretty irked boy scout; and if I'm piqued, think how annoyed Batman must be. That was the third Javelin to get damaged this week."_

_The Martian sounded apprehensive. "Regrettably, I don't need to think...I know he is not happy as he is rather loudly broadcasting his displeasure. He is also concerned about Flash, although he won't specify as to why."_

_"Yeah, but that's nothing new of late, J'onn. The way he's been keeping track of the kid, if I didn't know better I'd be wondering if he was considering making Wally the newest Robin The Boy Wonder."_

_Batman interrupted their conversation; as J'onzz had stated, the Dark Knight was clearly suffering from more than his usual ill humor.  
_

_"Very funny, Superman. You should consider taking up writing the Daily Planet's humor column." (The corner's of Superman's mouth tinged from a blend of exasperation and fondness.) "J'onn, switch the three of us to telepathy, I don't want this reaching certain ears."_

_"As you wish." J'onn complied. -I have now linked the three of us.-_

_-How is the_ _ kid _ _doing?-_

_-Since calling us in for backup- J'onn answered, -Flash is feeling highly frustrated and guilty for having only managed to lure the intruder away from the evacuees after it electrocuted three policemen. This is his protectorate, yet there is not much he can do against this type of adversary.-_

_Superman sighed. -Unfortunately, I know how he feels. My punches just go right through it. It's not affected by wind, water, cold, or my heat vision.-_

_-Or explosives." Batman confirmed. "I've used up my most powerful ones and it didn't so much as come after me. Analysis shows the only one it seems to notice with consistency is Flash. If it's a hunter looking to cull the weak, then why was Flash so easily able to lure it away from the pedestrians in the first place? Why not go after them? Because Flash is the target.-  
_

_-Maybe it's like most predators and is attracted to moving objects?" Superman postulated. -What is it with you lately, Batman? You're starting to sound like The Question: seeing conspiracies around every corner. Now...maybe if we try something more powerful than a few batarangs. The jet's toast anyway, what if we detonate the fuel tank right against the creature? What do you think, J'onn?-  
_

_-I do sense it is weakening, but it is impossible to determine if it is only a ploy to lure us closer. It's so foreign that I'm not even certain if it is intelligent or working on pure instinct. Hold..I'm getting feelings of confusion from Flash.-_

_-That's not exactly unusual for him, J'onn.- Superman chuckled.  
_

_-Humor aside, Superman, something is troubling-  
_

_"Hey, guys, stop the attacks. It's weird, but I don't think..."_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West]

The scene froze.

Whoa.

"Well, I've got to admit that's impressive," a candid Wally admitted to his hidden adversary. "I don't remember being able to hear others thoughts last time we did a sleep over together. You install better sound software, Dee?"

_"You will watch and understand-"_

"Maybe I don't want to, Dr. Destined-for-jail." Making sure a grin was plastered on his face, Wally glanced around, but although he could hear Dr. Destiny's oddly monotone voice just fine, the blue cloaked skeleton that was the manifested alter ego of John Dee failed to materialize. His grin faded as the smug villain refused to show is 'face', such as it was. That was out of character for a man who had gloated when he had the upper hand over Flash the last time they'd tangled.

"Where are you?" demanded the speedster. The apparition remained silent. "Yeah, you _better_ stay hidden," Wally threatened. "Once I get out of this dream and find you I am going to kick your pelvic bones so out of whack that your one-free-phone call will be to a chiropractor. After that appointment's made, I'm going to introduce you to the police dogs as a treat for the dogs. Then I'm going to run to New Mexico and have the natives fashion some handcuffs made of dream catchers made especially for you so everyone can catch their beauty sleep unmolested; not that I need any beauty sleep, mind, because I'm clearly not the butt ugly one here, and maybe I should do the handcuff things first because that would make more sense, but anyway, people have a right to snooze in peace! Which reminds me...I bet you are the one who was behind Supes acting so weird and everyone wanting either my head or arse on a platter-"

_"The Master has revised this special showing for your particular edification. You can not leave before the knowledge is imparted."_

"Hey, I was talking there, bone head, and that was just rude..."

The thoroughly put-out speedster paused his litany of ire.

Wally had been given to understand (during a Dark Knight of Triplicate Documentation-enforced stint on filing reports) that Dee loathed Lex due to prior lousy working conditions (really, who could blame the guy there? Wally could write his own tell-all book.) Still, if Luthor had sprung Dee then he might feel a bit beholding to Baldy. Calling Luthor 'master' seemed a bit overboard, but Dee _was_ a few springs short of a mattress.

"My mind's been shanghaied for a freaking documentary? What is Baldy doing? Changed ambitions from ruling the universe to ruling YouTube? Tell _Master_ Luthor he can go wax his head in a a drive-thru car wash if he thinks I'm going to watch and review his amateur home movies. Besides, do you realize there isn't a snack stand in sight? I can't watch a movie without snacks. Not possible. It's clearly stated in the League Movie Watching rulebook: Flash gets snacks dibs during Movie Night. I wrote that in myself with a red and gold glitter pen so no one could miss it (and goodness knows Bats sure didn't) so ignorance is no excuse."

_"The Master has given you a limited time to regain what was taken away before you meet with him again."  
_

Meet with Luthor? Well, this was no good. In fact, with the value of 20/20 hindsight at his disposal, Wally's usual instinct to await an optimal change in circumstances by running off at the mouth when unable to run the usual way was probably not the best plan. Getting worked up and snarking off at Dee was just going to play in Baldy's favor. Ranking of priorities meant getting out of the dream world before Luthor sent his goon's to pick up his defenseless body (if they hadn't already) despite The Question's promise to guard him because, honestly, Vic was a great guy and all but this was probably more than the investigator could bite and chew without choking.

Well, Wally did still have his passkey out of this joint; the one he'd gotten thanks to J'onn the last time Dee had introduced as a royal bone head.

Time to leave this theater. Besides, Pay-Per-View had a better film selection.

Without further ado, Wally sat cross-legged on a curb and began relaxing his heart rate down to normal. (That was how he'd gotten out of Dr. Destiny's dream realm before; it should work a second time.) All he had to do was relax and not look at the image of his friends fighting the brilliant and decidedly unnatural phenomenon hovering near his statue at the Flash Museum.

_Ohmygod!_

Quickly standing up, Wally forgot all about Luthor and Dee as once again he felt drawn to the other-worldly phenomenon or creature or _whatever it was_ with it's mind-blowing beauty.

Okay, part of him conceded where someone like Superman might look upon the awesomeness of an approaching thunderstorm and find the sight as disquieting as it was breathtaking given his background; yet where Clark saw potential destruction of his family's seasonal crops, Wally saw sheer motion and natural energy at play. This particular manifestation wasn't something as mundane as some local weather event, however. No, to a man who could sense the intricacies of time, distance and mass it was _cosmic_ in scope. The grandeur it held was almost too much to look at; yet at the same time nearly impossible to look away from.

It was a star struggling to be born in the womb of a nebula

A black hole eating a star system whole.

It was prisms of dancing light laughing within a super nova.

Lightning rending the atoms of a sky screaming in pain.

The dark waters of the abyss, hiding secrets from the beginning of Time.

The resonance of song freed from the throats of a billion voices.

It was real.

It was alive.

It was very nearly All.

It was Everything there was...

_Almost_ everything.

There was an missing element; something keeping it from being whole.

Wally didn't know why he knew this, but there was an emptiness when he looked upon the being that made him want to wail in empathy for the loss it suffered. Just ahead of him, he could see that his Flash-garbed image was trembling with the same emotions.

This scene...it felt real and not just some imaginary dreamscape placed in his mind by a fruitcake super-villain wanna-be. (Seriously, he doubted any fruitcake wannabe could imagine something so awesome.) Wally wanted to touch the primal beauty; to feel the deadly dance of energy/motion course around him. If he could just get close enough to join it everything would be explained...everything would be _perfect_.

Frustratingly, though, he was unable to act on the urge. Unlike his 'video' self, he was stuck where he was; a helpless, yet enthralled spectator, willing the character on screen to do the action he himself yearned to do, but was kept from attaining.

"Touch it. Just touch it!" Wally pleaded with his duplicate.

If he'd just _touch_ it, the others would understand and stop their pointless assault.

If he'd just meld with it, they'd _become_ happiness.

By himself, Wally had no chance of attaining heaven.

It didn't matter.

Heaven was reaching out for him.

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_At the sound of Wally's voice (so edged with uncertain_ _ty) Superman paused in his attack. Flash was usually acting cocky and self-assured during a battle. It was as if each encounter was the highlight of his existence. His exuberance would be so obvious, you could imagine his blood corpuscles all taking the shape of happy faces whenever they called on Wally's help for a mission._

_Unfortunately, neither he nor the others had a chance to ask the speedster to explain further as something newly formed sprung from within the distortion. Electricity appeared to solidify, melding into a slicker, tendril-like extension of the phenomenon. The tendril burst forth (singeing fabric as it passed within a hair's breadth of Superman) slightly angling it's trajectory to continue to intersect with The Flash who was now running-_ _towards_ _it?_

_Towards it?  
_

_What the fuck was the kid doing?_

_Mentally apologizing to his Ma for bad language, Superman sent his lasers into the tendril just nanoseconds before it reached it's objective in a vain attempt to stop the inevitable. He could always wash out his mouth with soap after this was over._

_There was a bright flare closely followed by a loud, crackling noise. Superman watched helplessly as a scarlet meta was sent hurling backwards until his head and back abruptly met the edge of one of the city's buildings nearly half a a block away. At that point Flash dropped like a stone and out of the Man of Steel's line of vision._

_Superman cursed a dozen Kryptonian obscenities under his breath. He turned back to the energy being with a look of anger, not sure if it was more directed at the thing that had hurt the Flash or at Flash for having disobeyed a command.  
_

_Either way, that storm was going to pay the price.  
_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

_No!_ That wasn't supposed to happen! Wally groaned in a sudden swell of anguish at the sight of his crumpled image falling from several stories up only to collide unhindered with the ground.

It was all wrong! Horribly wrong! He didn't know why, but that was _not_ what was suppose to happen. It was a miscalculation. An experiment that misfired. The tendril had _not_ been an attack!

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_The groaning red figure lay still for a moment, a tangle of limbs surrounding his curled up torso. Slowly, he twisted about so as to rise up on one arm and consider his surroundings._

_There was a blue sky._

_A yellow sun._

_Above and to the east, other brightly garbed humanoids were flying in the air. Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, and Batman-battling to stop a silvery-gray, electrified, thing from heading his way. The speedster blinked at the buildings by him, then at the colorful beings flying in the sky; taking it all in, yet staying where he was as if he wasn't sure if this concerned him or not.  
_

* * *

_Superman sent his heat rays at the creature before disengaged from the battle a bit, absently noting that the thing had turned slightly grayish and more 'there' since attacking their team mate. It haltingly tried to follow the same direction that Flash had been thrown, but recoiled from the laser beams as well as the League members who were making a point of getting in it's way; keeping it from it's objective was paramount, that much had just been made terribly clear._

_"I think we can safely junk the idea of a natural phenomenon. That tendril was deliberately aimed at Flash even though it had to go right past me to to reach him."_

_It does seem intent on Flash," Wonder Woman agreed. Batman scowled._

___"It's intent _ _is rather violent in nature," he pointed out. "I suggest we stop discussing it and focus on not let it have a second go."_

_"Where is Flash, anyway?" Wonder Woman risked a glance around. "He should have rushed back by now...and has anyone else noticed our unwanted guest has changed color?"_

_"It is more gray," J'onn agreed. "Almost as if coming into contact with Flash sickened it. Maybe he had thrown one of those awful puns he is so fond of at it?"  
_

_Wonder Woman nearly smiled as she imagined the alien incapacitated by one of Wally's inappropriate jokes.  
_

_"What happened isn't funny," Batman scolded them._

_Something's different about it alright..." Superman mused, "and Flash is late returning. I'm going to go see how badly he's hurt. Keep trying to reach the Watchtower...he may need the med bay-before I ground him for pulling such a stupid stunt."_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

Sick...yes, that was it exactly. Wally felt nauseated to the point of vomiting. No medical doctor could help this kind of pain though. His head hurt, yes; but his heart was screaming.

_-Wally not hurt so...Almost home-_

Oh not this again. Did Dee actually think he could keep serving the same rancid meal and he'd let it slide?

"Just shut up! Shut up! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_From his vantage point in the sky, Clark saw his friend lying dazed on the ground below and unaware of his danger. He was breathing, but The Fastest Man Alive was not living up to his name as Flash did not seem inclined to move from where he had fallen. Meanwhile the amorphous alien was being anything but slothful. The thing seemed still very determined to reach the downed hero: it had dodged around both Wonder Woman and even Martian Manhunter, still focused on Flash; probably to finish him off._

_Corn weevils in the bread dough! Clark wasn't going to lose a team mate to some freaky storm monster._

_It was a thoroughly pissed off_ _Superman who flew to intercept and rained a series of punches against the now partially solid and slicker outer perimeter of the monstrosity. To his surprise, that sent it sailing back half-way across downtown and (strictly speaking) he hadn't even touched it. The grey substance had twisted just enough away from his knuckles to avoid the blows._

_This was odd. Where at the beginning it seemed unaffected by Superman's best attacks, the creature was now shying away from his fists before he could even make contact. Was it suddenly afraid of him because for some reason now it was vulnerable? Clark saw that it was behaving the same way towards the others, bunching in on itself to avoid contact with it's assailants._

_"It's afraid of us," Batman observed.  
_

_"It's been rendered vulnerable. We can hurt it," Superman saw a narrow-eyed Batman ready an explosive. J'onn morphed to his dragon form, 'teeth' exposed; Wonder Woman flew forward with a makeshift spear wrested from city park fencing. "Everyone attack at once!" If they could subdue the entity they could possibly learn why it had come here and if there were more coming. They'd need to prepare, create defenses.  
_

_Hardly had the order left his mouth when the 'storm' gave a high-pitched wailing noise before imploding out of their dimension with one last crackle of electricity._

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

Wally sank to his knees and keened in his misery as emotions washed over him.

It was his fault. He'd _failed_. He'd got it all wrong. Why, after all this time? Why, _now?_ What was he going to do? How could he _fix_ this? Why didn't they see they were _wrong_?

Hold on...how had he failed? Why was he feeling guilty here?

_"The League is blind to anything but their own needs,"_ Dee's lackluster voice resumed. _"Your presence amongst is an extra burden in their missions; a liability, a wild card element in their club that they must keep close in order to control. They don't care about you. They don't understand you. Not like the Master does."_

"They made a _mistake_ ," Wally wearily defended them by sheer habit alone. "They didn't mean to." He felt thoroughly confused and feared he'd nearly reached the end of his sanity and it wasn't helping things that Dee's words echoed his own worst fears; it was all adding to his stress.

He should be able to cope better than this by switching to his faster thought processes for short bursts while the outside continued on at it's slower pace: a side benefit to his powers that allowed him a mental respite when stressed. Why wasn't he able to think _between_ what was happening in the dream? Were the images being fed into his head at a speedster's natural pace? That wasn't possible as neither John Dee nor Lex Luthor had access to super speed.

_"Your loyalty is misplaced, but the Master says you will believe his words soon. He knows you will rise above their brainwashing and accept the truth. Then all will be as it should. Watch the memories. See you're so-called friends and their masked lies of friendship."_

_-Wally Please Understand...Not mean to hurt-_

"Stop doing this with the voices!" Wally pleaded. "Just stop! I want to wake up. I don't want to dream this anymore."

_"You must know the truth. It is necessary for you to know."_

The dream mercilessly went on. _  
_

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_Superman paused to consider before ordering the team into action. Just because the creature had disappeared into thin air didn't mean it was truly gone. "Check around the city. Make sure it's not just hiding somewhere. I'll check on Flash." They moved to do so (a hesitant Bruce leaving his side last.) Thankful that Bruce hadn't argued, Kent flew back to where he'd witnessed Flash go down. The Kryptonian's expression was a melding of anger and worry as he fretted._

_"Flash, you idiot. Not even Kara [his young cousin] shows this much rashness and she's several year's younger._ _Do we have to hold your hand like a toddler to keep you out of trouble?_ _After today, you are going to see so much monitor duty you're going to need eye drops." Still muttering to himself, Superman switched to x-ray vision in order to speed his search by seeing through the buildings that were blocking his view of the street.  
_

_'Krypton-where is he? He fell around here-there's damage to the brick work above. If he's seriously hurt, I'm going to kill him. I swear, Wally's straining my last nerve. Ah, there he is. What? Great Caesar's ghost! What does he think he's doing?'  
_

_Still at street level, Flash hesitantly felt around his face before nervous fingers found the edge of the cowl. He peeled it back so that the bright red material and metallic lightning bolts flopped backwards unto his shoulders. Wallace Rudolph West's likeness was now exposed to anyone who might pass by, but Wally seemed unconcerned by this fact. His green eyes stared at the gloves covering his hands as if seeing them for the first time. He did not appear to be particularly interested in the scarlet wetness glistening on two of his fingers, but on the appendages themselves. The speedster only looked up at the sound of The Man of Steel's hardened voice.  
_

_"That was stupid! We_ _ told _ _you to stay clear of that thing, and yet you ran towards it? What were you thinking? Why have you unmasked? Are you okay?" An exasperated Superman landed beside the speedster, hurriedly employing his super-human vision to check for broken bones, torn ligaments, or other internal damages. Save for some moderate fractures on his spine that were already healing, his friend appeared to be in one piece if rather bruised and shaken. He didn't apologize or give any kind of defensive answer. Superman was not too surprised by the lack of an immediate reply as Flash was probably still a bit dazed from having hit the building so hard. Further r_ _eprimands could wait until Wally was aware enough to take any rebukes to heart._

_Well, as much as Flash ever seemed to absorb any corrective advice._

_What Clark was dumbfounded to see was the young Founder bare headed: Wally was even more paranoid than Bruce over his secret identity. The kid was as unlikely to unmask in public as Batman was to volunteer for Dancing With The Stars.  
_

_Kent's shock increased when the man's dilated eyes shot to his and widened in fear. "What is it?" Superman quickly glanced around expecting to find an attacker. However, every type of sensory input in his employ showed that they were alone save for the other heroes making sure the menace was truly gone. Indeed, the only danger Clark could sense was Flash's possible exposure to unfriendly eyes once the city's inhabitants (or worse, the news media) started returning._

_Wally had by now crawled to his feet, staring around him with a wild eyed look of panic. Clark's nose twitched. As with his eyes, his nose was far better than that of any homo sapien's. It's enhanced sense of smell informed him of the presence of hemoglobin even before his eyes registered the blood trail dripping slowly from Wally's hair unto his draped cowl and down his neck as it followed the call of gravity. The speedster reached back with a trembling hand to the back of his head. His face crumbled in pain, crying out sharply as he reflexively snatching back his hand. Flecks of red flew to the ground like rain. The blood smell increased after the quick motion. Kent switched to x-ray vision again-this time adjusted for the back of Wally's head and saw to his dismay that a deep scalp tear was bleeding liberally. He mentally swore at himself for not having bothered to check for more than internal damage. Still, this was Flash. His hyper metabolism was not as quick as Superman's under yellow sunlight, but it sped up healing quite a bit. The scalp wound would be scabbing over before they could even break out a med kit from the Javelin. That is if Wally didn't accidentally worsen the damage again._

_"It's okay, Flash, the alien's gone," Superman smiled reassuringly as he stepped forward to dispense their shared favorite brand of heal-all balm: a bear hug. Every one of the Founders knew Wally feared isolation. He hated to be alone, prolonged periods of silence made him antsy, and he suffered a form of claustrophobia. Because of this, West craved more tactile interaction than most, so a friendly hug should do wonders for getting the speedster on an even keel again.  
_

_He might heal much faster than a normal human, but Wally had a gregarious nature that craved 'human' contact whenever he could get it and would occasionally try to instigate group hugs. Hol, Stewart, J'onzz, and Kent understood the youngster's need was likely a by-product of his power and were willing to indulge it when possible._

_Actually, Green Lantern preferred giving the odd shoulder clamp or back slap; while it was battle-hardened Hol who most readily gave the treasured full-out hug. Superman learned the art of a good (and careful!) embrace from growing up with Ma and Pa Kent. The Princess would grin-and-bear one if the hurt was major, but preferred verbal support to full body contact (much to Wally's mock disappointment and loud declaration that some Amazons were spoil sports. Which earned him a scowl from the lady in question.) Bruce... Well, Batman just didn't go into that sort of thing as Wally had found out the first-and_ _ last _ _-time he'd ever tried it with the Dark Knight._

_"Let me check that head wound and then we'll see about going somewhere to get it patched up. I think some stitches are in order. Then some food. I'm sure your starving." Instead of instantly being there in front of him with a playful quip along the lines of "We've got to stop meeting like this, Big Guy," Wally just stared at him with the same scared expression of someone not sure if they were really awake or still engulfed in a bad dream.  
_

_'Must be more badly dazed from the blow than I thought,' Superman decided as he reached out for him. To the Kryptonian's rising unease, Wally reared violently in the opposite direction rather than take his hand. The speedster whimpered like a beaten puppy, backing away until a brick wall stopped him. He fell down again, shaking from either exhaustion or terror. This was not like Wally at all. Kent wondered in dismay if there might be something more than cuts and bruises ailing his team mate._

_"Flash?" Trying again, Superman took a step forward. That was as far as he got before Batman cel-lined down between them, pausing the Man of Steel's advance. Batman froze upon seeing the bared head of West; Superman could almost swore the man blinked behind his cowl. The Martian and Amazon arrived a split second after._

_"The teleporters are down. The technicians are hopeful they will be working within the hour," J'onzz informed them before stiffening. His illuminated gaze turned towards Flash. The two engaged in what looked like a staring match.  
_

_"Like the sun rises and sets," Wonder Woman sighed in tired acceptance of the news, then noticed that the others seemed preoccupied by something else...The Flash's_ _uncovered head showing it's sweat-darkened strawberry red hue over pale skin to all; his mouth_ _open in a silent scream. She opened her own to ask, but was beaten to it._

_"What happened?" Batman's voice was terse, but Kent could hear the tinge of concern under it. Superman saw the human's jaw tighten when he indicated the damaged brickwork that Wally's body had created in the structure above them and the descending trail of glistening blood. All eyes went to Superman. No one noticed that J'onn was slightly swaying on his feet and rubbing his forehead.  
_

_"Flash was thrown into the building. I think he must have hit his head pretty hard," Superman added (unnecessarily as all could plainly see that the source of the blood came from the back of Wally's head and that it was now dripping onto the powered bits of old brick that had not withstood the impact.) Uncertainty shadowed Clark's eyes as he finished, "...because I...I don't think he recognizes me."_

_The others turned back to the unmasked Flash who cowered before them, breathing shallowly and gently vibrating in place-sending more crimson droplets to the pavement._

_"I can't get near him without his shying away and.." the Kryptonian sighed,"He's bleeding."_

_"Really?" Batman snapped in irritation. "What was your first clue?" Superman shot him a glare._

_"I told you he won't let me near him. It's like he thinks I'm going to kill him or something."  
_

_Wanting to forestall further contention between the two males, Wonder Woman tried to approach the shaking speedster next. West had always flirted with her even if it was no longer taken seriously by either of them. However, Wally didn't receive the Amazon's movement in his direction any better than he'd taken Kent's. "Doesn't look like he recognizes any of us." The Princess bit her lip, stymied on how to proceed._

_Silent in the background until now, J'onn's eyes narrowed as he morphed his arms long enough to touch his friend's forehead. "Flash.." He straightened with a wince after only a second before Wally whipped his head away, crying out as the movement aggravated his wounds. J'onzz took a step back, again soothing his head. "His mind is..chaotic. Much more so than normal. I could not distinguish even one thought. There is only pain and an intense fear." J'onzz considered a possible diagnosis. "Perhaps he has been concussed and it is causing amnesia. He will need to be properly examined."_

_Flash's whimpering had grown louder. Clutching his scalp, he bunched his legs underneath his torso as if preparing to take off, but was not quite certain how to accomplish the act._

_Bruce knew that they dared not take that chance. Even as tired and hurt as the speedster obviously was, should Wally manage to run off only Superman would stand a chance of catching their disoriented team mate. Making a split second decision, Batman jumped forward and wrapped his arms and legs around the younger male, preventing him from using his limbs while trying not to jostle his head overly much._

_Blood soaked hair whipped him in the face.  
_

_Flash screeched as if Batman was murdering him. Yet instead of vibrating to force his assailant off, he struggled as a normal human would, limbs jerking and wailing like a lost child confronted by slavering carnivores. The thought raced through a momentarily shocked Superman that maybe Wally was afraid Batman's actions would hurt his head the more. That possibility quickly went out the window as Batman's cowl and front were soon besmirched with Flash's blood as the latter kept wildly throwing his head back into the Dark Knight's face._

_"Flash!" Superman, J'onzz, and Wonder Woman were horrified by what they was seeing and rushed forward. Bruce yelled at them to stop._

_"Stay back!" When they complied, he softly explained, "His heart is beating fit to burst."_

_Bruce could feel the man's organ going impossibly fast like that of a terrified hummingbird's. That might be normal enough when he was crisscrossing the globe, but when he was not? If Wally did not calm down, there was no telling how long before his body gave out. The man's metabolism was amazing, but could even it bounce back against a heart attack or stroke?_

_Batman grimaced, realizing that although he carried in his utility belt a powerful sedative strong enough to keep even Wally's unusual metabolism at bay for approximately ten minutes, he couldn't risk letting go of Flash long enough to reach for it. Nor could the others come close enough to get it for him without The Flash possibly suffering a heart attack. On the other hand, time was running out as it would not be long before emergency services and the curious came their way._

_There was another option; he just hated it as it went counter to his carefully cultivated reputation._

_"I'll try to calm him down so one of you can fly us out of here."_

_J'onzz's eyes glowed. "We must hurry. People are starting to come back," he warned them. Wonder Woman volunteered to go head off as many as she could._

_"Bruce, his cowl..." Clark started to advise._

_"Can't do anything about it yet," Batman ground out, annoyed because of the Boy Scout's implication that he wasn't aware of the need to keep West's identity secret. He gave the matter a second's thought. "Throw something over us."_

_There was nothing around that wasn't covered in gutter grime, Clark noted with distaste, and Wally had an open wound. Splattered in that wound's gore, Bruce's eyes glared at his delay, the fierce gaze centering on The Man Of Steel and the fabric flowing behind him.  
_

_Oh. Why hadn't he thought of that?_ _Superman blushed at having missed the most obvious solution: his cape was both opaque and naturally antiseptic._

_Without hesitating Superman took off his cape and tossed it over them both, effectively hiding the pair from anyone's view. (Superman, of course, had his x-ray vision to keep an eye on the situation while the Martian was occupied tried to keep tabs on everything around them.) The shaking increased as the voluminous fabric engulfed the two humans._

_Hearing odd noises, Kent blinked. Maybe he should get his hearing checked because it sounded like soft crooning._

_From under his cape._

_Bruce was singing a lullaby to his troubled captive? J'onzz clearly heard it as well. The alien superheroes looked at each other. Kent mentally shrugged._

_"I didn't know Batman could sing."_

_J'onzz was puzzled by this new insight into his team mate's abilities, but also by Superman's attitude towards it._

_"Why would it be strange that Batman could sing?"_

_"He just never seemed the type to sing for anyone." Flushing under J'onn's acute gaze, Superman returned to keeping tabs on Batman's progress. He really needed to get his head together here, but something about that storm creature had unnerved him far more than it should have and he couldn't figure out why. He'd have to discuss it with Batman once everything was secure. He had a feeling Bruce knew more than he was letting on.  
_

_Nothing new there.  
_

_Under the red expanse of exotic fabric, Wally struggled for awhile more, though gradually the movements grew less jerky until they stopped all together. When his cries had once again subsided into soft whimpers, Bruce kept right on murmuring. Superman smiled at that: Batman never left anything to chance. Finally, the speedster sighed and relaxed. Another moment and he went limp. Only West's quiet breathing let Wayne and Kent know he was still alive. The former very carefully maneuvered so he could feel the jugular vein. It thumped relatively slowly under his fingers, a vast improvement over the impossibly fast race it had been doing before._

_"He's out." Batman spoke quietly._

_It was worrisome that the speedster had collapsed on his own; The Dark Knight had expected to have to use the sedative to finish the job. Perhaps it was just as well that Bruce had not risked administering the drug or the chemical cocktail might have accidentally driven Wally into a coma._

_Superman felt his impatience growing as Batman made no move to get out from under the cape. As it turned out it was good thing as at that moment a news helicopter flew overhead: whirring blades causing wind to kick up around them as it started to descend. Kent inwardly groaned as he made out The Daily Planet logo on the mechanical bird with his coworker Lois Lane sitting inside. He grabbed his cape as it was whipped up by the whirlwind and took up a defensive stance between the helicopter and Batman. Undoubtedly Batman would be chewing him out later for having been so preoccupied with watching them that he'd tuned out the approach of the machine. If necessary, Superman would make up for a bit of that by grabbing the whole 'bird' and take the craft back where it came from. At least Bruce had the foresight to maneuver and clutch his own cape over Wally's head so that the helicopter's occupants hadn't gotten a glimpse of The Flash's exposed face._

_"J'onzz!" Batman yelled out in the most commanding tone they'd ever yet heard._

_Understanding immediately, The Martian Manhunter flew up to intercept Lane and her cameraman before they could disembark just as Diana showed up from having stopped two other news copters from making it that far._

_With his enhanced hearing now engaged, Superman could hear his persistent girlfriend already spouting questions left and right about the monster and why Batman seemed to be hiding someone from her view:_

_Was it the Flash? Had to be...she could see his yellow boots sticking out. Was that his blood everywhere? Which hospital were they going to take him to? Did they know his blood type and what was it?_

_Kent sighed in relief that he would not have to be the one dealing with Lois right now and sent a mental 'thank you' to J'onzz. Lois was correct, though; without access to the Watchtower doctors until the transporters were back online, Flash would best be taken to an Earth-bound hospital though it was unlikely a transfusion would be required._

_Although he did seem to still be bleeding due to the rough and tumble with The Dark Knight.  
_

_"Right. Batman, Wonder Woman can take you wherever you want to go. I'll fly Flash-" He was going to say 'to the nearest hospital to get that head wound looked at', but Batman interrupted him._

_"No," Bruce growled in a tone that brooked no opposition. "The media will turn it into a circus. My place is more discreet."_

_"Your place?" That was surprising. "It's a lot farther away."_

_Bruce's eyes narrowed into the feared Bat Glare. "Shall we argue until he does_ _bleed to death?" Superman was not happy, but capitulated._

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

"Well, that shows how wrong your _The Master_ is," Wally smiled as he grasped at the idea that Bats had allowed him within the sacred Bat Cave for something less than a planetary invasion. (Sucked not to remember _that_.) "Batman doesn't let just anyone in his home and everyone _was_ concerned for me."

_"They were concerned that you would be found out by the news people. If the world learned your identity, it might prove a stepping stone to others."_

"Yeah? Well, Batman _sang_ for me. That's got to mean something." Batman hardly ever strung two sentences together that were not a command or an insult. Wally didn't even know the man _could_ carry a tune and doubted anyone else outside the self-styled Bat Clan had known either.

_"He sang at nightclubs as part of his undercover work. You know even less of your comrades than you think. Less than they know of you."  
_

"Oh." Wally slumped. "Still not convinced," he muttered, though less enthusiastically this time.

In response, the scene blurred out and reformed.

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_Alfred had supplied fresh linen and medical supplies with his usual efficiency the moment they'd arrived. It made Superman wonder just how many times Batman had come home needing such things that his manservant automatically had them ready. Alfred even had a wash basin and towel for his employer to cleanse his body and armor of crimson gore with a stern admonishment not to drip the stuff everywhere as he wasn't mopping the floors again. The only thing that seemed to catch the Englishman a bit off guard was Batman carrying an unconscious Flash rather than his stronger team mate doing so. Superman could hardly blame Alfred for giving him the evil eye, but it was Bruce_ _who'd refused to let him carry the speedster. ("No sense both of us getting soiled.")  
_

_Uh huh.  
_

_"Shall Masters Wallace and Clark be staying long enough to scout out dinner, sir?" A prim Alfred asked as Bruce laid Wally on a diagnostic bed. His eyebrow raised a tad when his employer choose restraints designed to hold meta humans-specifically, a speedster. "Or shall I perhaps be calling Arkham for a pick up?"_

_"It's to keep him from hurting himself, Alfred," Batman explained. "He's too disoriented from a blow to the head to process warnings not to aggravate his injuries further than they already are."_

_Seeing the intensely grim set of Wayne's mouth upon Alfred's question, Superman shook his head. "The javelin needs to be towed back to the Watchtower for repairs to it's computer system. I should go and help Diana take it back there and update the others." It was a poor excuse for leaving and both of them knew it, but it seemed to relieve Bruce somewhat as his grimace lessened. That supported Kent's unspoken conjecture that Bruce wished to be alone with Wally. He would acquiesce to this verboten desire for now, but Superman wasn't going to totally let it go. He put added emphasis on his demand of "Let me know if his condition changes."_

_Bruce barely spared him a nod._


	9. Requiem For A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally's caught in his own head, but he's hardly lonely or bored.  
> It's movie night courtesy of Doctor Destiny: a biography, and Flash is the star:
> 
> This Is Your Life, Wallace West!
> 
> Or at least the part of it you didn't know existed.
> 
> Meanwhile, The Question has his own life to worry about as he crosses swords with the dark intruder: Jabberwocky.

* * *

_While his guest had been unconscious, Batman had cleaned up the blood and grime from both of them. With the expertise of long practice, he'd also stitched together the torn scalp so that they'd knit together (properly this time) without any disfigurement or with the minimal loss of Wally's red mop of hair. Now he had the man's skull in supported by both hands, tilting it this way and that, making sure the head wound and assorted bruises were healing well. Gloves had been discarded in order to better sift through the reddish hair, and Bruce and was currently humming the lullaby that had worked to such great effect earlier. (Wayne would cut up and eat his own Kevlar suit before he admitted to anyone that he found the song soothing when under extreme stress and otherwise unable to rest. Having brainstormed no other option earlier at the battle site, Bruce had employed it on Wally to calm him down. Only Alfred was aware the tune was one his mother had often sung to him as a child while tucking him in at night before...before the nightmare of his life began with his parents' murder._

_Bruce had never confided it to even Alfred, but_ _he considered the much younger West to be a particular responsibility of his akin to that of his own proteges. The man was just so childlike in his innocent reactions to things. You just naturally wanted to protect that even when at the same moment it could irritate you no end.  
_

_Or perhaps that was not the correct (though widely accepted) description for Mr. West. Wally possessed a keen enough mind. The problem was he rarely employed it and chose instead to let his speed take care of matters rather than think about what he was doing as a coherent plan. Miraculously enough usually this instinct-powered method of attack worked, but there were times it got the young man in trouble for which the rest of them would need to bail him out._

_Truthfully, the sight of Wallace practically screamed 'Handle with care: needs to be looked after', and so Bruce had done ever since the highly respected Barry Allen had sacrificed his life and left his young nephew to grieve over an empty grave._

_Yes, his childishness could be irritating and had earned West more glares from The Dark Knight than most of Batman's own rogues; yet that same quality was also somehow endearing to the point you would do anything to preserve it. If Wally was indeed their moral compass as that other Batman had intimated, then it served that they made sure he never spiraled down into the cynicism that had infected most everyone else, didn't it? Bruce suspected that Superman and the rest of the League felt the same way: Wallace Rudolph West was the team mascot and younger brother rolled into one for all he was technically also a Founder._

_He'd-they'd- be damned if they lost Flash now.  
_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

Luthor's little show and tell isn't doing so hot a job of convincing me my friends are false," a smug Wally couldn't help pointing out to his invisible tormenter. "He ever hear of creative editing?"

_"Their lies are so ingrained that at times they believe it themselves. But their actions prove otherwise as you have witnessed. Wayne's care is false. The Master will always love you. He is willing to show patience in giving this re-education from the lies they have fed your mind."_

Wally snorted. "Re-education. The whole lot of it is fiction." He thought of the creature that was just too beguiling to not be real. Well, _most_ of it was. "Luthor must be mad to think I'd fall for this." Still, he couldn't stop watching Batman's face as he ministered to this fictitious version of Flash.

Why did dream Bruce have to be even more gentle than in even Wally's wildest fantasies? If he didn't insist this was all faked, the speedster would be really jealous of his movie self.

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_Sure-fingered hands were still in the act of checking the knitted scalp when Wally started to come to. Jade green eyes (brilliantly clear circular gems) locked on his and silently asked a question._

_It would have to be an inquiry that Batman was uncomfortable having to answer._

_So he didn't.  
_

_"Flash," (Bruce refused to swallow at the intense scrutiny he was getting) "how are you feeling?" West continued to stare for a moment more, then started to vibrate._

_This was nothing new; they'd all seen Flash's power to set either all or just part of his musculature shaking. The friction intensity would wear down or heat up surface materials to an unbearable level resulting in whatever was holding the speedster to let go pretty quickly._

_These shackles weren't something as simple as steel mesh. They would neither burn nor fray easily and were speedster proof. He'd had Wally test them prior to this at the Watchtower's lab...with the added incentive of a free dinner at the restaurant of his choice if he got out of them before 30 minutes were up. Despite some mild swearing and insinuations of Batman's ancestry, Flash didn't get a freebie meal that day.  
_

_Trusting in the reinforced restraints to work the same way, Bruce was thus caught by surprise when Wally's whole body seemed to shift out of focus. The next thing he knew he was on the floor cuddling a very clingy speedster who was determined to be held as if Wayne was a lifeline that was going to be snatched away at any moment. Excellent peripheral vision confirmed the restraints hadn't been compromised...they just were no longer holding anything._

_How? When had Wally learned how to phase through things without the molecules going unstable? And what a time to gain that knowledge.  
_

_It took Bruce almost a full minute to recover enough of his composure (as well as swallow some pride) to call for Alfred's assistance. When their combined struggles were unable to pry West loose despite strong tranquilizers or (forced) words of endearment, Batman realized that West's sudden control over his atoms was more pronounced than just not destroying material goods; Flash was somehow melding their epidermal atoms to create a bond that was unbreakable without extensive injury to both. Batman finally relented to the inevitable at Alfred's dry assessment that "this looked like a job for Superman."_

_God knew Bruce loved his butler/confidant, but there were times...rare occurrences to be sure, but still times...  
_

_"Fine. But if Clark breathes or blogs one word about this to anyone there will be hell to pay."_

* * *

_At Batman's call (or to be more accurate, Alfred's) Superman had come down to the cave with Martian Manhunter in tow with not-so-surprising alacrity. At first Bruce had been supremely annoyed with Kent for bringing J'onn along to witness this debacle, but it turned out to be justified. It ended up taking the coaxing of all of them to get Wally off of Bruce. Superman and J'onzz had then restrained West long enough for Batman to fit him with a pair of kryptonite and titanium bonded handcuffs that Bruce hoped were dense enough to hold West-something that Kent was not happy about discovering Batman owned. Fortunately, the Man of Steel's pout was shortened by something of more import. Wally was then shoved into a Plexi-Steel holding cell, and they were currently discussing what to do about J'onzz's latest discovery._

_At that moment the door from the mansion proper was nearly blown off it's hinges as Shayera Hol forced her way in. Green Lantern was right on her heels. Bruce glared at them._

_"What are you doing here?"_

_"I told you we should have just knocked," Stewart jokingly chastised the Thanagarian when three faces scowled at their abrupt entry. However, when he addressed the trio, Green Lantern did not look particularly happy._

_An equally annoyed Alfred appeared at the violated doorway. "Yes, you should have, Mr. Lantern. My apologies, Master Bruce. It seems your impromptu visitors did not wish to wait like civilized people."_

_"Hey, something seriously injures Wally and none of you bothered to tell us. Be glad I managed to talk Shayera into only smashing in the door_ _."_

_For her part, Shayera could care less for polite formalities at any time and certainly not now. Not after what Wonder Woman had grudgingly relayed to her after Superman and J'onzz had suddenly scrambled for the newly repaired transporter when Batman had called. She'd wasted no time conscripting John into joining her in going down to Wayne Manor._

_"Where's Wally? What..." Shayera choked upon seeing the clear containment cage that had been hastily constructed. Flash was inside, tied to a bed via a variety of different restraints and heavily monitored via medical and security tech. A gas mask was strapped to his mouth. Her little brother looked unconscious; skin pale as death and hardly breathing. J'onzz was inside with him. "Wally!"_

_Shayera started straight for the Plexi-Steel door of the cage, fingering the leather strapped handle of her mace; single minded intensity directed on removing the door's existence; however it was not the door but Superman who blocked her path._

_"What the [undecipherable Thanagarian word] are you doing to him!" she angrily demanded. "Explain and make it good, or I'm going to forget you're a friend."  
_

_"He's only sleeping," Kent kept his voice carefully devoid of accusation or anger, tried to calm her down. He could easily take her outside to explain things, but there would be possibly damage to her and Batman's cave if he did so. He didn't want either to happen._

_Neither did Batman._

_Although he wasn't pleased with Hol's rash actions, he could understand them. There was also The Green Lantern to consider; John would back Shayera: both cared about Wally and would not just leave without getting answers. The resultant mess if they were denied would attract unwanted attention to The Wayne Estate.  
_

_"Why is he locked up?" John barked out. "What did that thing do to him? Is he contagious or something?" The Green Lantern swallowed as an unacceptable thought occurred to him. "He's not...dying?" Shayera's eyes widened at his words. Feathers along each wing trembled in agitation. She was a warrior, one with a proud history; hardly a green fledgling to battle and familiar with all sorts of death, but...  
_

_'My little brother.'  
_

_"Talk sense. Wally can't die. He's too fast for it...Death wouldn't be able to catch him," she added as if to convince herself of some immutable law. "Fastest man alive," she quietly added, because she knew Wally would have done so if he'd been conscious.  
_

_Her boyfriend was more objective if no less horrified. John was not one for emotional displays, but for acting on facts. If the kid was ailing, he'd darn well know why and how to reverse the damage.  
_

_"Unless he stupidly waltzed right into it's arms," John nearly sighed, wondering what his young friend had blindly run into this time._

_"Calm yourselves. He is not dying."_

_"Not dying yet something is obviously not right or we wouldn't be seeing this." John indicated the cell. "Alright. What do we do? How can we help him?"_

_"That remains to be seen," Batman grunted in a neutral tone. Behind him a miffed Alfred started picking up pieces of door, muttering about how some people lacked in proper manners. "For a start you might begin by cleaning up the mess you made."_

_John looked scandalized at Batman's seeming indifference to his best friend's life; Shayera weighed her mace in her hand as if contemplating planting it in Bruce's skull. "Neither of you have yet to tell me what's wrong with Flash. Do I have to start bashing out brains and reading the splatter like tea leaves to find out?"  
_

_"Shay has a point. If you'd just quit hiding everything straight out maybe your precious 'door' would still be in one piece. Just give it to us straight, Batman."  
_

_Bats screeched, but The Bat merely bared a bit of his teeth.  
_

_Seeing the tension in the room escalate, Superman almost rolled his eyes. Sometimes Bruce was just too taciturn by nature for anybody's good. "Bruce, they've the right to know. They're his friends too."_

_"Glad somebody remembered that," Shayera huffed. "So?"_

_That's not really Wally," Superman told them. He hesitated, blue eyes seeming to dull even more within the artificial light. "Actually, we're not sure what or who it is."_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

"Course it's not me. _I'm_ me. and I would have remembered if it was me," Wally nodded, caught up in the story despite himself. He stopped nodding as a thought occurred to him. "So if that's not me...where am I?" He waited. "Aw, c'mon... _somebody_ has got to have asked that question and gotten an answer?"

The annoying voices were silent.

"Figures."

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_"What do you mean?" John crossed his arms and scowled. Of course it was Wally. He'd known the speedster for years...longer than most.  
_

_(Although they didn't really hang together that much anymore since John had started dating. Wally was what John considered to be 'a bit on the socially awkward side'. Really, they'd tried to go clubbing together once not long after The Thanagarian Invasion and watching the kid try to flirt with women hadn't been pretty. God knows he'd tried to give Wally some dating pointers, but the speedster just didn't seem to have a slow option. He'd go blaring in full speed...and for Wally full speed was pretty bombardic. He gave the term 'speed dating' a whole new meaning. Or would if he could have gotten past first base.  
_

_Then John started dating Mari...then back to Shayera.  
_

_No, John knew that he'd been neglecting their friendship of late in favor of other concerns. One day Wally was likely to change and John would realize he no longer knew the man at that well and it would be his own fault. He'd have to rectify that...soon.)  
_

_Watching Clark fumble for the best way to answer Stewart's question Bruce decided it was time to be more direct or he'd never get his 'guests' to leave._

_"Superman means that the mind within Flash's body is not totally his. It's been overshadowed by another; and there's more of this alien than there is of West." Shayera gasped at this news; John looked pained._

_"Not Grodd or Lex Luthor again," Green Lantern inwardly groaned._

_(When the evil simian genius had taken over Flash's mind, John had been lucky to knock Wally out of it with a good punch to the speedster's jaw. In the latter instance, he and half the League had gone through hell after Luthor had taken over Flash's body when those minds had been accidentally transposed. If it weren't for a miscalculation on Luthor's part and Mr. Terrific's quick thinking, Dr. Fate would have not been able to fix them back and Wally (the part that mattered) would have died at the hands of Luthor's cronies.)_

_"Not Luthor," J'onzz materialized before them, startling John and Shay who had forgotten he was there. "By alien we mean just that. It is not anything or anyone we've encountered before." (It was, J'onn sighed, an ironic statement on his part seeing as half the beings currently in the room were alien_ _as far as Earth's humans were concerned and he could see Green Lantern's mouth starting to quirk with the humor of it.) "You know what I mean, John. Neither I nor Superman have any recollection of such a life form. Perhaps your sources on Oa will know and enlighten us. For now, I've been inside Flash's mind since Batman sedated him and have finished meditating on what I have found. It is my belief that the entity within Flash is that of the creature we fought over Central City." Silence fell over this declaration. The Martian continued. "However, I do not sense any malevolence in the mind."_

_Shayera was agape. "No malevolence? The thing attacked Wally and his city. Just what is your definition of malevolent, J'onn?" In the corner of her vision she saw Batman frown and subsided. "This whole thing is twisted, she muttered before putting her mace away.  
_

_Batman also did not look particularly reassured by the Martian's assessment. "How can you be sure?"_

_Not offended by the doubting of the others, J'onzz still gave Wayne a look of speculative consideration. The obvious answer to that would not be to Bruce's liking. He chose his words carefully. "I can not be as its thought processes are very different from any I have ever encountered, albeit it does share some characteristics with Wallace's. However that may just be the parts that are West. The mind I saw was nearly all lightning glimpses of emotion and not concrete thoughts. Be that as it may, I am getting the strong impression that it does not understand what has happened to it and that it is frightened of us. Why it attacked, I do not know. I am not even sure it was truly attacking."_

_John looked confused at this information while Shayera snorted at the idea the alien might have been in any way benign. It had threatened civilians and hurt Flash. Those two actions alone made it dangerous._

_"How do you know Wally's in there at all then?" John asked._

_The Martian hesitated. "Flash does respond somewhat positively to Batman's presence. It acknowledges others, but with fear. I can think of no reason why an alien would trust any of us seeing as we were trying to damage it, yet it feels most...'comfortable' would be the closest term...with Batman."  
_

_"Batman?" The Thanagarian gave him a disbelieving eye. "That makes no sense at all. John and I are closer to Wally than Bruce," Shayera pointed out. "For that matter, Wally's always terrified of Batman's even just looking sideways at him."_

_"On the surface, perhaps." J'onzz closed his eyes, feeling their unconscious spike of jealousy._

_As much as each founder would deny it and claimed they were a team, there existed within their friendship a certain amount of what was referred to as 'cliques.' Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman were believed to be the 'top tier in-group' as it were, which left the other three creating their own 'cliche' as a subconscious response. Martians did not have such social bubble groupings other than those created by the necessity of work groups. J'onn had felt no need to actively become part of any such division. Indeed, he thought the human practice slightly counterproductive if not actively harmful when carried to extremes.  
_

_"I would conjecture that despite their outwardly more antagonistic relationship within the League, subconsciously Wallace feels safest with Batman." To J'onzz dismay the sense of jealousy coming from John and Hol and even Superman spiked all the more. "Perhaps he looks upon Bruce more as a parental figure than as a friend," J'onzz soothingly implied adding a chiding, "This was not the time or place for theorizing on the subject of 'Who does Wally trust most?' "Most small children will seek out a parent for comfort when extremely stressed even if they fear their displeasure."_

_"You say it shares some characteristics with Flash," Batman prodded, not wishing them to dwell overmuch on the idea that Flash saw him more than as a fearsome colleague in their battle against crime. He was not comfortable with the thought. Their relationship was just fine as it had been. It was better to keep it professional. Safer for all. "In what way?"_

_"Only in that emotions transverse the mind at an accelerated rate not unlike that of Flash's and that they are not violent ones other than in their intensity. Fear and confusion dominate it." He did not add that the confusion over Wayne's actions had spiked just before Batman had lulled it asleep and had not resurfaced since his arrival with Superman. At the moment it seemed almost content.  
_

_"Not violent?" John snorted sarcastically, not realizing how much he paralleled Hol in his disbelief that the entity they had fought was not anything more than another adversary who'd become a thorn in their side. "From the reports I'd say I don't think it was playing with you earlier or when it smacked Wally into a brick wall. Did you get any peaceful impressions on why it attacked Central City and invaded his mind or was that just its idea of fun and games?"_

_Shayera grunted in agreement; just as angry, yet torn on what to do about it. She was used to using her mace to solve things, but she couldn't very well smash Wally's body to free him from an internal hostile takeover. The feeling of impotence made her irritable. How she wanted to smash something. Maybe that primal monstrosity or the giant coin Batman kept around for some unfathomable reason?  
_

_"It is odd that even after it melded with him it remained fixated on Flash," Kent mused aloud hoping to defuse (or at least distract) his team mates from pursuing their unspoken rivalry and back to the real problem at hand. He stared thoughtfully at the prison cell. "I'd say it was almost more desperate to get to him a second time."_

_"Yes," J'onn agreed. "It is merely speculation as yet, but I would hypothesize that the creature's appearance in our world was not planned. Finding itself lost, it searched for and found what seemed the most compatible mind; possible in an attempt to seek help."_

_"Boy, did it pick the wrong one." Shayera absently muttered; then caught herself and blushed. "I mean..." The others (save for Wayne) offered her a small smile in understanding. They all liked Wally well enough, but they couldn't see him as someone to go to first for help...unless it was for setting up a silly prank or finding a restaurant that served the biggest portions._

_"Wait a minute..." John breathed in sharply, "if most of the creature's mind is in Flash and there's little of Wally himself rattling around in there-then...where is he? Where's Wally?"_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

"About time," Wally grumbled. He was feeling a bit put out about how his team mates had made fun of him. Shayera was like the sister he never had. Nice to know she thought so highly of him. And John..well at least John admitted that they'd grown apart since GL had started actively seeking a sex partner. Superman...well, at least Clark had refused to give up searching for him...even if right now he kind of wished Superman hadn't actually _found_ him.

Batman...

Bruce couldn't see anything past his mission in life and probably never would unless maybe it was wearing a tiara and star-spangled bikini bottoms.

Damn it, he was not going to start feeling sorry for himself while Dee was watching.

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_"Most of Wally's mind might be in the creature?" Superman groaned in realization,"Which I sent who knows where."_

_The Martian frowned, wishing he had something consoling to say, but he had to agree...it did seem most likely that Flash's mind had been transposed into the being which was decidedly now MIA. "That is possible. If so, what we thought was the entity attempting to attack Flash when he was down was possibly Wally realizing what happened and trying to reach his own body." He offered Clark a compassionate look. "You could not have known any more than the rest of us did during that battle. Indeed, we as yet can not be positive this is what happened."_

_"Of course it's what happened," John grumbled. "Anything less would be too simple."  
_

_"Watchtower to Batman," Wonder Woman's voice came over their communicators, interrupting their dour thoughts. Bruce answered.  
_

_"Go ahead, Watchtower."_

_"Batman...I've been watching the scans you programmed. The creature is back at Central City. It's just hovering over one spot."_

_"Where?"_

_"Outside the Flash Museum."_

_The heroes looked at each other. This was unlikely to be a coincidence._

_"Status?" Superman barked out, ready to leave asap. Wally or not, they had to capture it before it disappeared again.  
_

_"It's just...hovering there. Not doing anything except admiring the Flash's statue," she finished with a trace of humor in her tone. "Looks like someone has acquired an unusual fan."  
_

_Clark sighed. "I think Wally is trying to tell us what we've guessed already."_

_Not being privy to the others conversation, Diana's voice showed her befuddlement over that. "What was that you said?"  
_

_Alarms sounding from the cell drew their attention it's sole occupant. 'Wally-Alien' was awake and staring in the direction where Central City lay hundreds of miles to the west. It struggled to sit up and when it found it could not due to the binders, switched to giving an intense green stare at Bruce. It experimentally opened Wally's mouth and...keened. Bruce immediately recognized the sound as a badly distorted version of his lullaby. It paused (they could see the muscles in the pale throat moving) and tried again, this time attaining a closer match. When Batman still made no move, it kept changing the pitch, getting closer and closer to mimicking the tone that Batman had sung with._

_Superman raised an eyebrow. "That's...unexpected."_ _Wally sometimes mocked Batman's mannerisms (when the Gothamite was not around), but this was different. This was something attempting to communicate in a way unfamiliar to it._

_John agreed. Unexpected as well as disturbing as it illustrated like nothing before that this in all probability was some alien possessing West's body. He fought aliens. Alien butt busting was a specialty. "Anyone got the phone number for Ghostbusters handy?"  
_

_Good god, he was not going to start taking the place of an absentee Flash by throwing out stupid jokes. At least nobody cracked a smile.  
_

_J'onn's eyes glowed yellow for moment. "We need to take him with us. I may be able to do a transfer of their essences."_

_"But what if we're wrong?" Shayera asked. "What if it wants to attack Wally again?"_

_Batman's lips tightened; Superman narrowed his eyes. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." The Kryptonian replied.  
_

_"But will we still have Wally when we reach the other side?" Shayera darkly muttered, not happy with that answer. Flying by the seat of one's pants was fun, but not when so much was at stake. In this case she'd have preferred that they had a fool-proof plan in place.  
_

_"I'll take him," Superman offered. "If it means to hurt him, I can stop it."_

_J'onn held out a cautionary hand. "Which is why you should be unhindered so as to be able to do so at a moment's notice. Batman would be a better choice to stay with the 'tenant' of Wallace's body." Seeing Green Lantern open his mouth to object, he quickly explained. "Batman has already gained it's trust, something the rest of us have as yet failed to do. There is some risk in what I will attempt. The calmer they both are once I begin the transfer, the more successful it will be."_

_Superman opened his mouth to argue, then gave a light smirk instead. "That's true, Bruce. Looks like you've got more babysitting duty." Bruce glared at him, obviously not in the least amused or convinced._

_"I am not it's nanny."  
_

_Finished with his cleanup work, Alfred added his own two-cent's worth: "Your care has made it appoint you it's liaison with our world, Master Bruce."_

_Bruce snarled at them all when he heard the other Founders light laughter. "Et tu, Alfred? I performed simple, documented techniques for calming hysteria-nothing more." He knew he sounded a little defensive about it._

_"Be that as it may, it was your voice that it responded to," the Martian insisted. "You were the first to give it the experience of corporeal touch and sound that were not hostile. Like it or not, it has bonded to you in a maternal-" Bruce growled; swiftly, J'onzz corrected the word he'd been about to use, "_ _paternal_ _way." When Batman continued to grimace like a man asked to eat something disgusting, J'onn telepathically sent to him: I do not understand this embarrassment for having concern for Wallace. He feels the same whenever you are hurt and unlike you is not afraid to show it. How would you feel if your aversion results in Flash being forever lost to us?_

_Bruce grit his teeth. He knew precisely how he'd feel as he'd been there when his Justice Lord counterpart had run horrified into Flash's cell when Wally had faked heart failure brought on via overexertion trying to escape imprisonment. For a moment there, helpless within his own cell, Bruce had felt bitter bile within his throat believing that both universe's Wally Wests had died.  
_

_Damn the Martian._

_Moving into the cell, Bruce cleared his throat. 'Wally' studied his face as if the answers to every question in the multi-verse were enscribed upon the Dark Knight's cowl. It sang the beginning melody. Wayne sang a few lines of the lullaby back. The not-Wally smiled...then blinked and felt around its (West's!) mouth, exploring pink lips with a tongue. Seemingly satisfied that this new phenomenon was not something adverse to it, 'Wally' then smiled again and sang louder in return, raising its head at a tilted angle. For a moment Bruce did nothing. Coming to a decision, he undid the restraints, letting the alien Wally sit up. The alien raised a hand and took his in a firm, but gentle grip in order to place it over his head. With an inner sigh at his unwanted outside audience, Bruce acquiesced and petted the silken red hair. The alien made a purring noise (a sort of happy vibrating sound based on some deep emotion...a felin-like reaction that Bruce was sure he'd never heard Wally make in public before. It was nice and he couldn't help but wonder if this was just the alien reacting to an unknown stimulus or how Wally would truly respond if he'd felt Batman wouldn't murder him for it._

_Wayne forcibly reminded himself he was heterosexual and cared deeply for Diana Prince if he cared for anyone in that way at all._

_The others were obviously trying not to smile. Bruce was thankful that none of them had cameras handy. Last thing he needed was empirical evidence that could be used against him.  
_

_Enough of this.  
_

_"We'd better get going. Flash was never known for his patience."_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

Well that had been interesting.

As well as rather demoralizing.

Wally sighed for what could have been. He'd known in his heart that Bruce loved Wonder Woman. Seeing proof that The Dark Knight could have fallen for him only made him feel sadder as there was no way he'd try to insinuate himself between his two friends. Diana loved Bruce and if Bruce gave her the chance would make him very happy.

_-Wally not be sad...Loved...Always-_

_Yeah, well, he knew that, but it was love at a distance. Love without touch. He needed to feel things, to get grounded by touching what was real because it left an undeniable memory on your skin. Love in the abstract was as fulfilling as empty calories.  
_

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_Indeed, the disoriented mind of Wally West was feeling more and more restless the longer he stayed over Central City. Shouldn't they show up soon? How long ago could it have been anyway in their time?_ _Surely not long enough to have grown old and forgotten him even though for_ _him it had seemed quite awhile had passed.  
_

_It had all started not quite at this very spot, but it had been close. He went over in his mind what had happened, thinking that Batman would grill him for sure about it once they got him out of this mess so he'd better remember it straight._

_He'd been fighting what he'd christened 'Storm' alongside his friends; then the sense of something touching his mind, something odd, not like J'onn, yet similar._

_Or maybe not._

_At first he'd dismissed it as the milliseconds preliminary to J'onn imparting some information or command, but instead of a full second going by before the Martian actually thought his first syllable, Wally had been greeted with instantaneous ones. Okay, they hadn't been actual words so much as emotions, but the feelings had resonated within him as if they were his own. What was weird was that they were hitting him at the speed he was used to thinking at..._

_...at the rate speedsters used._

_He'd stopped and considered this before calling out to the others that something was happening when this thing had started coming at him and -wham!- he'd felt like he'd been flipped inside out by the sudden implosion of every one of his molecules. When_ _some indeterminable time later_ _he'd come to it had been to find his whole perspective on the world changed._

_Like Alice falling into Wonderland.  
_

_Oh, he'd recognized everything well enough even though it seemed that he was trapped in the middle of a weird electrical storm. A weird-ishly beautiful storm that seemed sort of familiar, but there had been no time to consider that back then. _

_They were still inside Central City. Supes, John, Shayera, J'onzz and Diana were battling in the sky while Bats did his thing from a lower altitude with his handy gadgets. Yet somehow Wally had ended up in the air with a front-side seat of the battle-and he'd also switched sides._

_Well, that wasn't quite right. He hadn't turned evil or anything. His mind reassured him he was still Wally Rudolph West aka The Flash and The Fastest Man Alive; the beloved hero of the Twin Cities and overall fun, eligible bachelor extraordinaire, someone who washed his hands while in a restroom with lots of soap. But the sudden change in position (never mind altitude) had temporarily and oh-so-slightly discomfited him._

_Okay, it had scared the shit out of him._

_Once he'd realized that not only was he not in danger of falling, but that he didn't have any said stuff to be scared out of (nor arms or legs for that matter) he'd been able to access things better. Judge and...and...  
_

_Notice them and still be as clueless as before._

_A state of mind that didn't change when he'd felt drawn downward like something was tugging him (but again not in an 'I'm-falling-and-am-going-to-feel-substantial-pain-far-too-soon-for-my-liking' sort of way.) As the tugging got stronger, he'd seen a sight that had really knocked him for a loop: his own body lying mangled on the concrete street curb and Superman heading toward it._

_All this in the time it took most people to manage a full blink if the rate Supes was flying at was any help in judging real time actions. (Really, the fact that he was still able to think fast had been the only thing reassuring about the situation.)_

_But then it had gotten worse because not knowing what else to do he'd kept following this tug towards his body (well, it was his body, he'd a right to know what had happened to it) and hadn't that been a fun 15 seconds figuring out how to move his body...mass...gaseous substance...whatever? Anyway, he'd finally gotten his ass (so to speak) in gear and there was Supes in his face looking like Bats at his scariest._

_The Kryptonian was swinging his fists at him! Him! Not Flash-body-on-the-ground and defenseless, thankfully, but Wally-wherever-he-was-now him! He'd tried to explain that they were friends, comrades-in-tights, Supes didn't want to hurt him; but Superman didn't catch on (probably because Wally couldn't seem to find a mouth belonging with this new body thing) and Superman kept coming and punching ohmygodwhatifithappenedagain! What if Superman hit him as he was now and Clark got trapped like he was, a sort of Super Cumulus Cloud Man? Or maybe the weird transport thing would happen again and he'd be trapped in Superman's body!_

_Actually, that might be kind of cool._

_  
_

_The Super Flash!_

_Already faster than a speeding bullet and able to sprint up and down tall buildings,_

_but now New & Improved!_

_Vertical sprinting with laser shows!_

_Using the rings of Saturn as his personal race track!_

_Hopping from meteor to-  
_

 

 

_Gaah!_

_Nonono-this was already weird enough. He couldn't let that happen to Clark! Friends didn't let friends get turned into sparking clouds or covet their bodies._

_(Okay, that last might not have been worded quite right.)_

_Anyway..._

_So he'd put it in reverse (after a second's trial and error to find the clutch) and ran. Or whatever he now did because, you know, no legs. Supes must have been really pissed though, because he refused to leave well enough alone and was getting really close and, yes, punchy._

_Well, he'd panicked then. Screamed, and something else just beyond his thoughts had screamed with him and...and then that something at the back of his mind had taken over for a crucial millisecond and..._

_He'd gone elsewhere. Totally elsewhere._

_Whoa._

_It was...it was like heaven and paradise, and iced mochas, and All-You-Could-Eat buffets in one, big, mind-blowing vacation package. He had instantly recognized it as the Speed Force that he'd been temporarily stuck in after defeating Brainiac/Luthor. Only this time it was different because he was more connected to it than ever._

_Before, it had called to him. Now it practically was him._

_Or he was it?_

_Didn't matter though, because the operative word was practically._

_He was still Wally West and Wally West had obligations: Friends. Family. Rent payments due. Paradise was fantastic..._

_Okay, it was more than fantastic; but that wasn't the point. People needed him as The Flash. His friends would be pissed if he just decided to go on an extended vacation in Xtreme Velocity now when he wasn't anywhere near retirement age and tarnish Uncle Barry's image._

_Besides, who would assist Roleen in choosing the best liniments for her ailment? Or help Alice weed her garden because her arthritis didn't allow her to do it herself? Or aid Jack in moving his stuff to his new apartment across town? Or talk James into staying on his meds over a game of soft darts? Or get John to see that he needed Shayera?  
_

_Hell's bells, his people needed The Flash with his feet on the ground rather than with his head literally stuck in the clouds as a real airhead.  
_

_So it was decided._

_He needed to escape back to non-Paradise even though it was supposed to be impossible like in that film with the Nazi prison camp and the guy with the cool motorcycle leap over the fence...although said character had ended up pretty dead, so maybe that wasn't the best inspiration._

_Regardless, he needed a great escape._

_Now._

_Right now._

_Just as soon as he thought of a way to do the impossible._

_Bats did the impossible all the time and he didn't have super powers, so how hard could it be?_

_Okay, so Bats was Batman and that sort of was a double-dose of super power all in itself._

_Still._

_He just needed to quit being so enthralled by where he was and think about it._

_Escaping, that is._

_Think, damn it! He didn't have the luxury of outside help here!_

_-Help...Wally-_

_Um...  
_

_That's when he'd realized he wasn't alone._

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

Clutching himself, Wally winced. He already knew the voice in his head had been Dee all along. It still hurt to have it verified that his greatest invisible friend had been just an enemy play acting.

Gads, he was hopeless. How many people could say that they'd been hoodwinked by an invisible friend?

"The Master loves Wally and understands his fear is real. He is patient. They will be together forever and Wally will love Master as Master loves Wally. No other can love Wally as Master does."

-Wally Afraid...Much Lied to...Make Them Sad Hurt Wally-

Yeah, he was screwed. His invisible friend was Dr. Destiny and Dee had developed a split personality.

Why couldn't he have he have taken up plumbing as a kid rather than hero worshiping his uncle?

* * *

[Events of one year ago: Central City]

_Bruce Wayne had opted for the car rather than his plane in case the alien decided to fry it. At least then it would be on the ground and he wouldn't have to rescue Wally while airborne and in free fall._

_In order not to muddy the waters, The Green Lantern had dubbed the unknown alien 'The Changeling'. It was not really an accurate moniker for their unusual guest as somewhere in there still existed a bit of West, but Batman had not felt it necessary to come up with a better name for something that they hoped to correct soon, so The Changeling it was for now._

_Currently,_ _The Changeling sat quietly in the passenger side of the Batmobile, humming softly and vibrating a little as he eyed the Dark Knight with a speculative look, yet otherwise was utterly docile._

_Really, Bruce thought, whatever it was called, the thing occupying West was in some ways an improvement. If it had been 100% Wally at home, by now he'd likely be minus a missile or two what with The Flash's itchy fingers coupled with unbridled curiousity and there would follow an irate call from The President over unwarranted destruction of personal property._

_So why was he wishing the Pseudo-Flash sitting childlike next to him would do or say something typically annoying? Something patently...Wally?_

_"Superman to Batman," Clark's static-filled voice came over the speakers, "we've reached the entity. It's still hovering and that sickly gray color from before. Radio communications are acting up. How's The Changeling doing?"_

_Batman glanced over to his passenger. "Amazingly well behaved," Bruce started to say. Wait..."_

_Bruce gripped the controls as he divided his attention between his instrumentation and the fake Flash. Something had happened within the last five seconds and Bruce decided he didn't like it.  
_

_Well, of course. Even when possessed, Wally was still a speedster. Doing things out of the blue and that irked the Bat was some sort of Flash trademark not to be abandoned even when resident-Flash wasn't home.  
_

_"Batman?" Superman's concern leaked into his query as seconds ticked by and his colleague failed to elaborate._

_"The Changeling is reacting." The Dark Knight finally answered. "I repeat, The Changeling is reacting."_

_Vibrating so strong he was beginning to blur at the edges.  
_

_"Reacting? Interesting terminology. I was just thinking the same thing over here about the entity," Superman sounded like he was not terribly happy. It's... sparkling is the best way to describe it. At the same time, I'd have to say it looks even sicker than before. J'onn says it feels upset and anxious."  
_

_"What a coincidence...I think my passenger is feeling the same. ETA in one minute." Batman readied himself for any action including ejecting from the car if the possessed Flash suddenly turned on him. He was more worried that the alien was going to try to do the ejecting...right through the upholstery to the asphalt beneath them._

_"Calm down or I'm turning this car around," the Dark Knight growled. It was unlikely the alien understood the phraseology of annoyed grownups everywhere, but it did stop vibrating the passenger chair to pieces. A good thing too. Bruce was sure he smelled burned leather. "Sit tight...with any luck we'll be permanently parting company soon enough."_

_Prepared for a fight or not, Batman did not expect for any response let along what he was about to get._

_The Changeling stiffened.  
_

_"Bbbats."_

_"Flash," Batman carefully acknowledged the The Changeling's growled version of Wally's nickname for Bruce's alter ego.  
_

_"Hhhate."_

_"What?"_ _The spite-filled word threw Bruce for a loop. He glanced over and felt his heart stop at the look of something he'd never thought he'd see on West's face: absolute loathing.  
_

_"Alllwayyyys."_

_With that 'The Changeling' made a delibrate jab at the eject button on the Batmobile and went sailing out. He hit the ground running...and disappeared within the entity.  
_

_The entity which hadn't been much further away a moment ago._

_The creature's sparking increased to the level of a Fourth-of-July finale._

_Blinding!_

_Unable to see even with his special lenses, Bruce was left to grab the wheel and yank it to the left to avoid also being engulfed the the igniting energy field.  
_

_Tires squealed in protest.  
_

_He gunned the engine until he calculated he'd gone back a quarter mile.  
_

_Roaring engine sounds._

_Hiss of brakes.  
_

_Quiet as the Batmobile came to a stop.  
_

_Spots in his vision faded.  
_

_He breathed.  
_

_"Batman?" Superman sounded alarmed and angry, "Why did you-?"_

_"I didn't. It did," Batman grimaced._

_The creature had escaped while also incapacitating him enough to be sure Bruce couldn't stop it._

_Wally!  
_

_What about Wally?  
_

_"Superman, can you see Flash?"_

_-No.-_

_"Jonn.."_

_-We are on it.-  
_

__.__

_Oh, man..he wasn't alone? (Wally tried to glance around in his unfamiliar cloud form, but only saw the League.) Was this friend or foe? What would he do if it proved the latter?  
_

_"Wally West?" A voice: questioning, anxiety filled.  
_

_"Come again?"_

_"Wally West!" the voice exclaimed, now ecstatic.  
_

_"Uh...yeah." How did it know his real name?  
_

_"Found you!"_

_"Found...me?" Wally was confused; did he know the owner of this voice? What was 'found' supposed to mean? Did it know that he was trapped? Did it know how to free him? "Who are...oh...Oh! Ohmagoditsyou! I-"_

_Bright light.  
_

_Then there had been a fierce crackling sound and crippling pain before everything had gone blank._

* * *

[Question's Apartment]

"So...you're the Question," the figure dressed as Gotham's feared nocturnal vigilante sounded almost amused. "Batman said you were good. However, I'm not impressed. Your research is out of date: the Lords are gone. We use different names now. Going to ask where your own counterpart is?"

"Cheshire who meshes with the background save for a false smile of empathy, White Rabbit busily rushing around and yet ineffective for all his planning, and Jabberwocky...The jaws that bite, the claws that catch?" Question gave a small tilt of his chin towards the figure dressed in blacks and grays. "All undoubtedly in hiding from their former, loving subjects." He used his free hand to tap a finger on top of his laptop, "You sent the file. No counterpart using my alias or dead before became The Question. Would have recognized me otherwise. Should ask where our Batman is. The Oyster Bed where lies were told and the innocent slaughtered?"

"Now you are _starting_ to impress me." 'Jabberwocky' drawled. "Batman _is_ on our world and before you ask he's there of his own free will to research an important matter there."

"The March Hare. But the insane bunny has skipped your brier patch for greener pastures."

"Very good. It seems Batman was not overestimating your abilities as a researcher after all."

"Better at poker. You just confirmed a guess. Why are you here?"

Lord Batman took a step towards the couch. "I think you know." He reached out to touch a bit of red hair.

"Hrm." Victor took his own step sideways to block him, knocking the hand aside. "Won't go with you. Needed at Central City."

"Then I'll take him there on our honeymoon," Jabberwocky smirked.

"Not yours...ours. To meet your March Hare."

"I think you are smart enough to appreciate that such an act of drama can not be allowed to happen yet. By the time our lost adventurer awakens, there will only be one Central City for him to protect. You're right that Wally won't let anything happen to his people. Even if he has to kill to preserve what he has left."

"Then Batman overestimated _you_." The Question snarled his disgust. "Still don't learn from past mistakes."

Lord Batman glowered at the obstacle in his path. "Neither, it seems, do you, Mr. Sage." He smiled grimly. "I also am no stranger to research."

* * *

[Events of 11 months ago: Watchtower]

_-Superman, please respond.-_

_"What is it J'onn?" a drowsy Superman answered the Martian's call. The clock on his wall showed the time. He'd been awake for what felt like days and had only managed to fall asleep a couple of hours ago.  
_

_-It's Flash. He's woken up.-_

_Within a second, Clark was up and wide awake. "That's...That's great! How is he?"_

_-It's been a month since the creature separated from him. The coma has left him very weak. He will require extensive therapy.-_

_"I'll bring Batman over." Clark happily told him as he gathered his hero garb and started putting it on. "Fire will want to see him as well."_

_-No.-_

_A half-tugged on red boot stilled. "Why not?"_

_-He's intensely angry. At us.-_

_"Us?" Superman blinked, thinking he'd misheard.  
_

_-He says...he bitterly insists it's all our fault and that he wants to die.-_

_"That's..." Superman couldn't believe what J'onn was telling him. It couldn't be true. Wally would never contemplate suicide._

_Maybe it wasn't Wally's choice._

_"Could the alien-?"  
_

_-Unfortunately, there is no influence to counter. I have scanned his mind. This is Wallace Rudolph West and not the alien and yes, Superman, he intensely resents the League.-_

_"Why?"_

_-For saving him.-_

_"J'onn, we can't let him..." Superman scrubbed at his face. "Do whatever you need to do." They couldn't let Wally kill himself. It wasn't an option.  
_

_-"I will start psychiatric treatment immediately. But this unreasoning resentment is deep. It may take months to...purge it totally. Superman...it may take erasing the entire event."_

* * *

[Current time: Wally West's pov]

"They...didn't..they wouldn't..." Wally was aghast, momentarily forgetting that he believed (or wanted to believe) it all fake anyway.

_"Erased your memories?" Dee spoke in his neutral voice, "Of course they did. Whenever it comes to a choice between your well being and their needs, you will always lose. The Master knows this well. You will also know."_

"Nonono...no! I don't want to know anything about this!" Wally grabbed his aching head. "It hurts. _It fucking hurts!_ I want to sleep...it's all a _lie_ anyway. Another one of your damned illusions!"

_-Wally in Pain...Too much know...too Soon-_

_"Master has patience; yet time is not infinite. Knowledge must be reawakened-_

_"Will you stop doing that? Shut up, already!"  
_

_-No..Too Much...Protect...Yes...protect from Pain-_

A feeling of warm comfort engulfed Wally. He sighed in relief as the ache in his head subsided; feeling drowsy as the dream faded into a hazy greyness.

_-Wally Sleep...Rest...home soon-_

* * *

[Question's apartment]

"I made an error in judgment and have lived to regret it," Lord Batman grudgingly admitted. "This is my chance to redeem myself. Wally will be safer with us."

"You mean with _you_." The former Lord nodded at Sage's acerbic correction.

"Your Batman doesn't understand my motivations either; but, yes, my compatriots in my dimension won't object to my regaining a lover."

"But the March Hare will," The Question pointed out. "You must realize what will happen when he's been taken away again? What it will do when it realizes where West is and why? How will you keep him safe then when it's trashing your world? In fact, it will probably go there anyway after it gets what it wants from my universe. You must be big on it's shit list."

Jabberwocky's mouth tightened. In the ensuing silence, Vic growled as his intuition struck again.

"Of course...one of _Batman's_ infamous smoke screens. This isn't about _love lost_. This is about saving your own skins."


	10. Jabberwocky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jabberwocky laments the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am hating whatever it is that keeps messing up the formatting whenever I try to fix a damned typo. Of course it's worse when the connection goes down right in the middle of trying re-upload the whole thing.
> 
> In short, I give up. If this site's editor wants to screw up my paragraph spacing if I attempt to correct a transposed word (thus forcing a whole chapter delete and redo) then let the damned transposed word stay put as is. 
> 
> Also, what is the deal with POST'ing the chapter only to realize that it didn't actually post the stupid chapter but is again asking you to do what you've already told it to go ahead and do?
> 
> Sucks the enjoyment right out of posting.
> 
> Well, one of the things that sucks out the fun.

  
  


* * *

**A/N:** **Warnings** for T-rated (at worst) slash, mild violence, and a Batman that's going to seem ooc, but not necessarily so as the animated Timm universe 'Justice Lord Batman' is left open to interpretation.

* * *

_._

_We have met the enemy...and he is us. ~ Walter Kelley (Pogo comic strip)_

_._

* * *

.

Step one you say we need to talk.  
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk.  
He smiles politely back at you;  
You stare politely right on through.  
Some sort of window to your right  
As he goes left and you stay right.  
Between the lines of fear and blame  
You begin to wonder why you came...

_Let him know that you know best  
Cause after all you do know best.  
Try to slip past his defense  
Without granting innocence.  
Lay down a list of what is wrong:  
The things you've told him all along;  
And pray to God he hears you  
And pray to God he hears you..._

As he begins to raise his voice  
You lower yours and grant him one last choice.  
Drive until you lose the road  
Or break with the ones you've followed.  
He will do one of two things:  
He will admit to everything  
Or he'll say he's just not the same  
And you'll begin to wonder why you came...

_..._

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness?  
And I would have stayed up with you all night  
Had I known how to save a life._

_\--_ _ How To Save A Life _ _by The Fray_

_._

.

[Current Time: Illinois State Highway leading outside Hub City: heading east]

Jabberwocky's calculating gaze slid from his backseat view of the countryside to that of the automobile's front seats where a silent White Rabbit was riding shotgun; the former leader of a world was diligently watching for signs of any pursuit (though that was unlikely as Jabberwocky had taken precautions not to be traced. Jabberwocky was always wary. He was the team's master planner, the one who came up with their new (anonymous) pseudonyms, the hidden meanings of which only he knew.

Bruce Wayne once Lord Batman before the fall now _Jabberwocky (A darkness dweller downed by a youth armed with the most damaging of swords: the sharp edge of his contempt.)_

Unlike Jabberwocky, the large male codenamed White Rabbit was not an actual human but an alien who had been sent away from his doomed world while still a baby and who had grown up to be christened by the frail humans around him as _Superman_. His weapon of choice was not a rifle, but deadly beams of concentrated energy that he was somehow able to shoot from his eyes. Jabberwocky had never really been able to figure that one out; it made the X-ray vision power seem almost normal by comparison. Perhaps they were somehow charged by Sol's energy and controlled by the irises of his eyes to make Kryptonian-born Clark Kent a living battery and precision laser in one?

Clark Kent formerly Lord Superman reduced to _White Rabbit (always a step behind. Complainer. Blinded by his own sense of duty.)_

His gaze shifted to the driver's seat. There, an equally quiet Cheshire Cat was in command of their rented sports car. He--unlike Kent--was obviously uncomfortable with the situation they were in if not the morals of what they were doing. The last native sentient of Mars--victim of a merciless invasion---The Martian Manhunter was likewise obsessed with saving his adopted home to the point of putting up with nigh anything to insure it's survival; yet oddly enough this truly alien being still held more compassion for Jabberwocky's situation than the more 'human' Kent did. Jabberwocky hypothesized that this was possibly because J'onn J'onzz had experienced having his loved ones ripped from existence, whereas Kent had been the one to push his lover away.

J'onn J'onnz, erstwhile Lord Manhunter now called _Cheshire Cat (the invisible mystic. Changeable. Too changeable to wholly trust, but needed nonetheless.)_

Sitting crammed into the backseat with his slumbering prize, Jabberwocky considering his 'friends' and their predicament. They'd just managed to pluck a delicate fruit from an alternate dimension of pre-Lord heroes and their success in stealing it away might well be the only hope of his own home and sanity. He wished he'd had more time with the 'other' Batman of this world to devise a solution to their mutual dilemma as (unlike some of the others) he held no malice towards this _Justice League_ dimension. However, a solution had not been found in the time he'd allotted for such a search. If only one of their worlds could survive the coming wrath of The March Hare, Jabberwocky was going to make damned sure it was his own; hence his deception against his counterpart 'Nighthawk' and his unruly Earth with it's _League_.

_Nighthawk to his team; still known as The Batman of this world._ A Bruce Wayne lacking full appreciation of the knowledge which complemented Jabberwocky's wisdom.

Really though, did Nighthawk actually think that Jabberwocky would willingly leave this dimension and its Flash alone? Probably not. They did share the same brain and basic emotions; but Jabberwocky and his allies would cross that bridge when they came to it. It wasn't like any alternate Batman could out think him and he had the added support of his own Superman and Martian Manhunter at hand. Conversely, Nighthawk was virtually alone both in _'The Oyster Bed'_ (as he'd disdainfully termed Jabberwocky's home dimension) and on this Earth where heroes were hampered by out-dated morals: which was why this world had fallen so fast and would fall further still until there was nothing left.

Morals were an untrustworthy foundation.

_Ethics_ and _duty_ had felled worlds; betrayed that which mattered most.

He was spending too much time dwelling on the past. It was what happened today and in the near future that counted.

Yet, if one did not learn from the past, were they not doomed to repeat it?

All things were suspect now that it was clear this was where The March Hare had ended up after having left a trail of destruction in various dimensions like some sort of bread crumb trail for Jabberwocky to follow. The chaotic insanity of his quarry had wrought...it was rather different than previous findings. In the other universes that J'onzz and the magic users had found (carefully studied by he and Nighthawk), the pattern of damage inflicted had been erratic and of varying intensity and range. Sometimes, the 'crumb' was barely that: a single, newly formed sun rendered barren of energy as it went from fiery birth to a fizzled death in a fraction of a blink. Other times an entire system was obliterated by being accelerated into subatomic particles.

So far they had discerned no termination of sentient life in the actions of The March Hare, but it had come close at times...it's activities increasingly disrupting the stability of natural phenomena.

Nighthawk and he agreed that the disasters were most probably the result of The March Hare learning what it could do with very little concern about the consequences it wrought; (it was rather akin to the fictional children in the Clarke novel Childhood's End who played with whole planets as they grew into godhood.) They had been lucky so far that no one _had_ died as yet..at least, not directly.

* * *

Dwelling on the recent past of discovering the presence of and the subsequent tracking of the March Hare's movements brought Jabberwocky's consciousness back to the immediate present.

The rental that the Martian had 'borrowed' for them as a get-away car was called a _Lexus_. (Honestly, how ironic a name was _that_ for the means of saving the man he was currently cradling protectively in his arms?) Jabberwocky had been very tempted to take this world's Batmobile along for the rescue mission as it was far faster and more secure than any rental car, but he knew better than to risk hijacking it. Just as they had not been able to use Nighthawk's credit card for the Lexus lest they leave an electronic trail, so also The Batmobile was too recognizable by even the plebeians of this society not to go unnoticed. The common folk that Lex Luthor had steered against superheroes of all kinds wielded cell phones and would undoubtedly alert Cadmus of their path. There was also the risk that Nighthawk had one of his sons put tracers on _their_ mentor's car. (If his Richard Grayson or Tim Drake had still been alive, Jabberwocky would have taken the same security action on his gear to prevent joyriding by a known element rather than just by anyone, so he was sure that the Batmobile was 'rigged' somehow for the duration of their 'switching' locales.)

Batmen were not fools.

Since they were cut from the same cookie cutter mold regardless of the different way their worlds had taken, Jabberwocky knew that Nighthawk would never give up coming after them should he discover their true goal--irregardless whether or not _he_ felt for the Flash like Jabberwocky did. _That,_ he'd explained to his disgruntled team mates, was _one_ of the reasons why three former Lords of an entire solar system were now utilizing a lowly rental automobile for a long road trip rather than zooming from point A to point B in less than an hour.

J'onzz and Kent (especially Kent) still complained about it.

* * *

Time passed like the scenery outside: changing yet somehow seeming the same.

Normally, Jabberwocky would have preferred to be the one behind the wheel as it gave him a sense of control. He'd had to allow that instinct to lie fallow as it would have meant letting one of his cohorts ride in the back with West and that was not an option. Wayne did not fully trust J'onzz to abstain from taking advantage of skin contact and sliding his alien consciousness into the speedster's mind. Once dead against such a violation of privacy, _Cheshire_ had done that far too frequently as the Lords' top interrogator of criminals; Jabberwocky didn't trust him to suddenly control his full powers of telepathy. Even if accidental, such an action might be dangerous for them if the March Hare had developed further along than Bruce feared. (If that was the case, though, they were dead men already.)

Likewise, letting _White Rabbit_ back here would potentially result in West being injured. It was this universe's still living speedster, _The Flash,_ that had easily evaded Kent's fist-cuff attack during the battle between League and Lord. This Wally had tossed the arrogant Lord Superman into a trash receptacle after making their riled up _leader_ look rather foolish in his inability to lay one hay maker on a joking speedster...a speedster that appeared for all intents and purposes like their own had once been. The frustrated Clark Kent of today tended to hold a grudge more than before they'd forcefully taken over control of Earth's security. His temper was short. It had taken a year for Kent to forgive Bruce for letting the League members escape let alone enough to speak Jabberwocky; that breakthrough had occurred only because they shared the same foreboding with Fate and Zatanna that something ominous was happening and that they were linked to it.

Wayne had not become so jaded by past events to have prematurely entered into the dotage of old age: _Jabberwocky_ was not blind to the fact that Kent might try some form of revenge on the sleeping speedster despite his stated agreement to help assure the operation's success. Oh, eventually, Clark would come around and deal with (if not actually forgive) Flash's returned presence in their lives just as he now tolerated Wayne, but for now it was best to be wary. There was no sense in risking this Wallace West's health unnecessarily by letting those two alone together even in the rear seat of a moving vehicle.

Still, Jabberwocky itched for control of the steering wheel. Fortunately, there was an alternate way to occupy his hands.

Fingers ghosted over red hair before settling them onto a green shirt.

Being with Wally was not at all a bad substitute to driving the car.

He was still the one in control of what mattered.

* * *

Flash, Wallace Rudolph West... _Wally_ as he had been years ago- _-or close enough to it for Bruce to be content with this substitution of his desire._

Jabberwocky smiled down at his (unaware-as-yet-of-this-fact) lover, marveling again at how more than one Flash could exist and thus offer him a second chance with the man's affections.

The speedster shifted and whimpered in his sleep, then relaxed.

  
  


Using the program he'd found in a Lexcorp file for shutting down speedster had been a gamble, but he had check the program thoroughly for possible side effect and found none. Plus, it had worked. There had been little likelihood that he would have been able to inject West with a paralytic and knock-out gas was a waste of time unless the speedster was continuously confined with the drug. Jabberwocky supposed he had Luthor to thank for the end result. If they weren't in such a rush to get back he would have tracked the billionaire down, given him a slightly less painful death than he'd otherwise fantasized over since Wally had been murdered..

No longer relevant.

West was his again.

"Don't fret, Wally. You're almost home. I realize that at first you're going to be angry at me, but everything _will_ work out this time, I promise." He kissed the lax mouth and felt his heart rhythm jump with the proof that the taste of this replacement West was exactly how he remembered the original's to be like. If only Wallace would awaken and be willing to respond back. That happy moment would come in time, though. Speedsters were by their very nature the most impatient of the metas. No matter how upset, Flash would quickly see that Bruce was his best bet for survival in a post-Lord world and adapt accordingly. He'd cling to Bruce once more.

Jabberwocky hesitated.

_(Self delusion again, Bruce?_

_No..a promise to himself. He'd make Wally love him just as much as he had before...things had gone sour.)_

Wayne had considered every possibility of how West would react to being a prisoner. He _had_ learned from history. Jabberwocky would make sure Wally was well rewarded for being _good_ ; just as he was positive the threat of Lord Superman's ire would counter any desires by the speedster to be _bad_.

It would work out.

Unconsciously, Bruce moved one hand over the speedster's civilian clothing as he re-familiarized himself with the volatile lover that he'd been without for far too long. It never ceased to amaze Jabberwocky at how similar the two worlds were in most ways. _That_ West had favored well-worn stonewashed denim as much as this one apparently did. Comfort and flexibility were the modes which Wally liked to live in; well, third to consuming food and running.Bruce would do his best to supply his lover with everything he needed to be happy under captivity until West was willing to be happy of his own accord. Alfred was gone, but Wayne would hire the best cooks to satisfy Wally's immense metabolism, install a treadmill made from space-tech materials designed to handle high speeds so the speedster could still get exercise (always under watchful eyes), buy the softest wools and silks to caress his lithe body's every conceivable contour...

"Jabberwocky?" White Rabbit had reached up to angle the rear view mirror so that it showed more of where Jabberwocky was sitting. Bruce nearly growled at the interruption, but saw that the Kryptonian's eyes were edged with crimson as they appeared reflected in the silvery glass. The warning was clearly not regarding something the Kryptonian saw from _outside_ the car, but from within it.

"Shouldn't you be watching the skies?" _(Don't start bitching now, Kent. Just shut the fuck up and mind your own business.)_

"You did expound to us," Cheshire Cat chimed in (his orange eyes intent on the road ahead), "that the achievement of peace before pleasure was necessary for our mutual survival. Surely that applies to _you_ as well?"

"I haven't _done_ anything," Jabberwocky snapped at them. ( _Yet. One kiss and a bit of fondling hardly_ _counted as overly indulging.)_

"Neither has he," an irked White Rabbit pointedly continuing his menacing stare into the rear view mirror. "You forget I don't need any of my visual abilities to know what you are up to. The car is enclosed with a circulating air system. Even over the rancid odors of this tin can's abused upholstery I can _smell_ as well as hear your increased arousal. Besides, the sooner that immature League punk wakes up, the sooner he's going to be fighting us. Unless you want your replacement toy _broken_ , let him sleep. You can play with your obsession _after_ he's done his job."

The former Lord Batman seethed at the pestering. What was their problem? We're they jealous that he had regained a partner while Clark had irredeemably lost the disenchanted Lois and J'onn every form of a loving family he'd ever laid claim to?

" _Get over it_ , Clark. Besides, I wasn't going to wake him." He held up an empty hypodermic for them to see. "Flash will sleep until we get there and have irreversibly locked down the portal. I'll then explain the situation to him until he understands there's no choice open for his future but the obvious one."

"We could have flown you and Flash to the Batcave portal," the Martian pointed out. "It would have been faster."

White Rabbit grunted his agreement with his fellow alien. "Plus, in the air he can't run off."

Jabberwocky grimaced at their complaining. With such a lack of forethought, it was no wonder the League had managed to win out over the Lords. "Must I remind you both that the extended use of your powers would be as a flaring beacon?"

"We can handle the League," White Rabbit scoffed. "They are currently leaderless and hamstrung by the very one I warned that Superman about. He was a fool to allow Luthor to live. Criminals shouldn't be allowed to exist."

_Idiots_.

"Who said anything about the _League_?" Jabberwocky lowered his voice. "For that matter... _you_ may want to unravel my theory and accept a convenient scapegoat, _White Rabbit_ , but _I'm_ not convinced Luthor is the one whose been dismantling this dimension's Earth. Do you two really want _him_ coming after us before our defense is ready?” His tone took on several more layers of warning as he added, “Coming...after _you_?"

The Martian and Kryptonian glanced at each other.

"No," J'onzz slowly replied. "If what we and Nighthawk have conjectured is correct, that would be suicidal. For me, it is only that I have already witnessed the destruction of one world. I do not care to be around to see it repeated here.”

  
  


_As I calculated. J'onn is too afraid of being alone again to contest me._

Bruce head nodded almost imperceptibly. He did not relax, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"This whole mess is all your fault, _Bruce,_ " Kent groused.

_Superman, however, was going to be trouble. The Kryptonian always did have a bloated sense of self importance hidden under that innocent Mom & Apple pie exterior he'd cultivated early on when The League had been young. Years of holding power in his fist had whittled away that outer skin to reveal the disillusioned 'man' underneath._

" _And I'm working on fixing_ _it_ _, Clark_ " Jabberwocky acidly reminded him. Blue eyes of hardened resolve met and clashed with crimson-streaked azure. Bruce's hold on Wally tightened.

  
  


* * *

.

The true hypocrite is the one who ceases to perceive his deception, the one who lies with sincerity. ~André Gide

.

* * *

_[Twenty minutes earlier: inside Question's apartment]_

"You _don't_ understand." Question saw the alternate Batman's lip curled infinitesimally with his contempt for Vic. "None of your world could possibly understand what I feel for West."

Truly?" Vic Sage calmly adjusted his aim to compensate for every tiny movement Jabberwocky made as the intruder stood by the doorway. "What _do_ you _really_ feel, _Lord_ Wayne? You're obviously so scared shit-less you risked seeking out our Batman to gain his help. Now you're willing to sacrifice _Wayward Son a second time_ to save your sorry hides. It's the fools who learn nothing from history that are doomed to repeat it."

If Lord Batman was surprised by Sage's knowledge about Wayward Son he didn't allow it to color his voice.

"You know of him?"

"Know enough to connect the dots and make use of that detective ring found at the bottom of a box of Cracker Jacks," Question kept his gun trained on Jabberwocky's head. " _Wayward Son_ \--the Wallace Rudolph West of your world--who was assassinated by those he mistook as his _friends_. Just as there was never just one Flash...you've passed that infamous title on to our West---only with the same goal in mind” Question breathed deeply, his next word laden with contempt: “...murder."

"Wally..." Jabberwocky swallowed reflexively. His eyes went sad and haunted as he softly sang one line of the well-known lyrics, _"Carry on my wayward son_ was Wallace's favorite song. He'd play it in his room all the time. Even bribed J'onn with the promise of Oreos if the Martian would be willing to telepathically 'beam' it into Wally's mind when he went for 'planet-length jogs' as going past the speed of sound rendered a disk player useless. Said running with the riff blaring in his 'ears' made him feel more alive--even if J'onn's crooning was never exactly Kansas lead singer material." The dark eyes hardened as the fond memory was again relegated to the back of his mind.

"When Batman wanted us to choose Alice in Wonderland code words for our world and picked avian words to denote his...I insisted on referring to Wally as Wayward Son. It seemed more fitting than some ridiculously mundane moniker like 'Alice' or the like."

Vic mulled the additional information over. It was this song that West had been dreaming of in his sleep. (Happenstance? Question did not ordinarily hold with coincidences. More often than not what seemed to be random chaos was actually meticulously planned events sent into motion by unseen players). Now with the malignant influences of Luthor, Dee, and a trio of Lord wannabe's, West's sudden penchant for the favorite song of his speedster counterpart was downright worrisome.

_.._

_Carry on my wayward son..._

_.._

"Hrm...fitting song for a _sacrificial lamb._ " Victor made sure to lace the term with all the scorn he could muster. Homicidal betrayal was a contemptible sin, the contemptible offering of Abel by Cain to Heaven.

"Not a sacrifice," Jabberwocky vehemently denied. "We both know what the outcome will be _."_

_.._

_There'll be peace when you are done..._

_.._

"Wayward Son II going up against The March Hare?" Question scoffed. "Never thought to say this to any of the Bat Clan let alone the head of one, but...you _are_ a fool to risk such an encounter not knowing which one is stronger."

_.._

_Lay your weary head to rest..._

_.._

Jabberwocky grit his teeth. "You're wrong. I do know Wally very well. Studied him for years---weighed him before and after everything changed. I _can_ predict the actions of my lover from either time frame--from either dimension. I love him."

"Lover? A noun. Meaning one who has a sexual relationship. Not unlikely given West's need for companionship. Love?” Sage disgorged that single-syllable as a snort of foul air, “Doubtful."

"You find it unthinkable that I could love _,_ Wally?"

"Me, doubt it? Why, thought my belief in your lurid little romance was as plain as the nose on my face."

_.._

_Don't you cry no more_

_.._

At the investigator's mocking rejoinder, Jabberwocky raised his chin...and lowered his gun. Vic was a little taken by surprise by this, but didn't lower his own weapon or guard. Even without a gun, a Batman was dangerous.

"You're wrong about me. I did love my Flash. Therefore, I will cherish this variant of Wally as well." He gave a small, woeful smile. "Perhaps he was a nuisance before he was viewed as a threat, but once I started to really pay attention to Flash as more than just another powered team mate, I saw something I could value. Flash noticed my increased interest in him and returned it. He revealed things to me that he never would of otherwise." Jabberwocky's slight smile was bittersweet. "The trust my Wally showed to his lover was absolute. Strangely, his misconception that I could care for him in return gradually ceased to be anything akin to a lie. I loved him as well before he...left us."

"Touching. Almost hear the violins playing. It's not your _'love',_ that concerns me, Jabberwocky, but your claims of predicting his behavior. Our West proved how unpredictable he could be in your world. How could yours not have been the same?"

Jabberwocky growled at the biting truth of Vic's words. He _had_ miscalculated Wally’s response; the only the _once_.

_It had been once too many._

* * *

.

Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another. ~Homer

.

* * *

[Time Unknown: Pre-Justice Lord Earth]

_.._

_Masquerading as a man with a reason..._

_.._

__A waste of his time._ _

__Why did the speedster always do this to him?_ _

__Why did he allow the irritating man to do this to him?_ _

__Batman silently cursed for the entire half hour it took_ _ _him to track Flash down. Thankfully, he had full access to the Watchtower's surveillance system and a familiarity with maneuvering around awkwardly tight places along with a complete lack of acrophobia. The fact that Wally did possess such a fear highlighted the extent that this fiasco had affected the speedster._

_It had been worked out in advance that during a mission J'onn would surreptitiously trip up The Flash enough to cause Central City's patron hero considerable embarrassment, yet without actually endangering their impulsive teammate or the mission. Clark would then give the kid a vocal lecture on his lack of prowess during the_ _ battle _ _that would be a bit worse than what Superman usually doled out when Flash 'messed' up. West would follow his usual (predictably so) choices and run to either his room or the cafeteria to privately sulk and eat his sorrows away. It then would be Batman who would arrive alone to show sympathy towards him: the foundation for a systematic seduction that would allow the Dark Knight to keep a tight watch--and hopefully an even tighter rein--on The Scarlet Speedster._

_That had been J'onzz plan. Admittedly, not a tactic that Bruce was really anxious to execute as neither the real Bruce Wayne nor his crime-fighting personae cared to be sociable to that degree at all let alone romantically tied with Flash; however, it_ _ was _ _a workable proposal as based on_ _ Wally's _ _personality and not Batman's._

_As stated, that had been the_ _ plan _ _._

_What had actually transpired was that an ill-tempered Superman (who'd apparently gotten up on the wrong side of the bed with Lois), had then gone overkill in reaming a fellow Founder a new one or three and right within the hearing range of a few of the more gossipy, younger, potential allies that they were considering for membership._

_Bad enough in itself as evidenced by what could be seen of Flash's skin turning beet red; but, no, it has been worse than mere humiliation amidst his following because Clark had the foresight of a dying turnip._

_In addition to the candidates, the lecturing had been committed while Beatriz was there as well: aka Fire, aka the Brazilian bombshell whom the smitten speedster couldn't even ask to pass the salt without becoming a stuttering mess of misfiring hormones._

_Before Batman could intervene, the devastated Flash opted to escape from Superman's insults by running straight up the Watchtower's walls, ramming through a service shaft, navigating a maze of access tubes to possibly thwart any pursuit by the Man of Steel, and then zigzagged his way over a network of support beams that rose to the very top of the station's inner workings. It had taken Bruce half the time he'd spent on this mission to slow down the interior monitors enough to follow the flight path; the other fifteen just to cel-line and crawl his way to the point where he had the meta in view._

_And what a_ _ pitiful _ _view it was because Flash was a mess. His normally pristine uniform sported small tears as well as dust that was usually kept off the red, aerodynamic material by sheer speed and/or vibration._

_Well, the last would soon no longer be an issue if the sudden cascade of raining particulates was any indication._

_West had perched on a beam where it joined the outer hull; huddled against the cold metal wall, he was holding his head as if in the throes of a migraine and was trembling so hard there was a real concern that he might topple off. That his reddened face and sleeves glimmered with dampness told Batman that the shaking was not just from the cold air in this remote part of The Watchtower or of his fear of heights manifesting itself._

_Nor was Wally merely crying..._

_West was_ _ grieving _ _._

_Mourning as if Superman lancing words had killed someone precious to him. Perhaps, Batman considered, Clark had committed a type of homicide, for if West gave up being The Flash because of Superman...where would that leave someone whom had aspired to nothing_ _ but _ _being The Flash?_

_That might be looked upon by Clark as a viable solution to their mutual problem, but Batman knew better. Take the suit off, he might look like Bruce Wayne the billionaire businessman; however, beyond layers of Kevlar and steel still lurked The Batman because Bruce had worked hard to intertwine his alter ego as a part of his soul. This conscience choice was purely voluntary._

_Not so the case with the super humans any more than it was a choice for J'onzz to be a native of Mars. Their fate was strictly_ _ involuntary _ _. Super powers worked down to the atomic level with metas. The truth was what many of the more paranoid of humanity had always feared---Wallace and his ilk were_ _ not _ _100% human and thus could no longer be defined by solely human definitions. Alien Clark could take off the cape, but not the impregnable skin. They could not just change what they were in a pinch. Even if West gave up his calling—severed his heart and soul from the name and uniform of The Flash--he'd eventually be drawn back to the Speed Force simply because it had become a part of his molecular structure ever since those electrified chemicals had hit him._

_Damn Clark and his penchant for grandstanding! Didn't the Man of Steel ever learn that it was best to keep your friends close and your [potential] enemies closer? If Flash had now decided to step down from the League as being unworthy of it, how would they keep an adequate eye on any dire changes to him? Away from The Watchtower, he could discover parts of his potential at will and unchecked with devastating effect for the rest of the planet. They'd have to kill him immediately if he declared he was quitting The League or even just going part time._

_Kent had messed up. Now it was up to Bruce to utilize a carrot in a manner so enticing as to counter the damage created by Clark and his barbed willow switch._

_Fantastic. (For a moment, Bruce entertained the idea of kicking Clark in the derriere with a pair of kryptonite-toed boots.)_

  
  


_"Flash...” Batman said from the shadows to get the speedster's attention, “don't fret overly much on what Superman said. Maybe you don't always measure up to League standards. You won't need to." He noted the little signs that told Flash was now aware he was there and listening before cel-lined up to within a few feet of the other man and continuing. "If you accept, I'd like to take you on in the capacity of guardian. You'd be under my protection and guidance within the League." That got the speedster to at least stand up and eye him; albeit warily. "None but the Founders need ever know of this arrangement, so you wouldn't have to lose face with the others." Here it was...the plunge. The mask of Amor which he would need to wear from now on because the needs of the world's many outweighed the needs of either of their versions of 'one'._

_"I want to take care of you, Wally_." _He reached out a gauntlet-protected hand towards The Flash--swallowing his discomfort at the intimacy he was about to engage in---and invited the other to come closer._

_West looked startled, but then folded his arms and looked away. "Afraid the team will lose it's speedster?" the boy sniffled. "Maybe it's for the best. Superman's right...I'm nothing but a screw up. Sooner or later someone's going to get killed because of me. You'd all be better off without a Flash. Clark's pretty fast anyway and with all the new members wanting to join... The League wouldn't even miss me."_

_"I'd miss you," (Bruce inhaled in surprise. That wasn't what he'd meant to say, but it had come out regardless. A mere fluke; a byproduct of the need for realistic acting? Might as well go with the flow.) "I won't deny that I'm concerned about the League being without_ _ The Flash _ _, but you're more than just a speedster. I care about_ _ you _ _, Wally. I want you with me...close by...so I can always take care of you." (Hell, maybe he_ _ could _ _do this--technically, Bruce could truthfully say that he wasn't even lying. He watched the other hero's face to gauge how well his words had been received.)_

_"Really?"_

_The stricken Scarlet Speedster was watching his own expression like a hawk; but_ _ his _ _search was for some hidden joke--any indication that he'd misinterpreted something Batman had said and was at risk of receiving another painful jab to his ego as payment for his error. However, that glistening face also had a spark of hope that this wasn't some sort of cruel hoax at his expense---because_ _ Batman _ _just didn't share a history of pranking his team mates. With a series of short bursts of movement, West edged closer like an abused dog afraid of getting another whipping, yet even more fearful of possibly losing out on some affection._

_.._

_My charade is the event of the season..._

_.._

_His charade was working._

_Just a bit more._

_"Really, Wally."_

_"_ _ Always _ _, Bats?" One last hesitation before taking the bait._

_"Always,_ _ Wally _ _," Bruce put as much added emphasis on the name as West peculiarly had done on the_ _time frame. He had to convince Flash that his interest was personal and not just 'business' inspired._

_Wally's breathing hitched._

_"Yes...well..then. Okay."_

_Jabberwocky held out his other arm and instantly found both filled with a gently vibrating West sobbing into his chest. He petted the red-clad back to soothe the boy--_ _ young _ _ man _ _, Wayne corrected fiercely. (If he slipped now and called West a kid after this he'd lose him!) With one hand, Batman eased off the scarlet hood so as to plant a small kiss on a freckled nose while looking him in those (admittedly) beautiful jade eyes of his. He was pleased that West allowed the intensely personal action. "Always. I'll love and protect my Wally West--always."_

_The speedster's neediness made this deception so absurdly easy to pull off. Why then was this 'mission' sickening his stomach? They had to lie about how good Wally was._ He _had to lie about his affections. It might be unsavory to do so, but it was_ _necessary_ _._

_Wasn't it?_

_Guilt reared its distracting head._

_"Good." West sniffled again, but this time with happiness as he snuggled in close to rest his head on a Kevlar-covered shoulder; the younger was utterly convinced of Batman's sincerity simply because the Dark Knight had given his word_ _ and _ _ Batman _ _ didn't _ _ lie _ _.” Bruce sighed because...years of trying to get it into the fool meta's head to not trust so easily? It had obviously been a wasted effort. On the up side it was just as well that West stubbornly tended to take things at face value or he'd realize how uncomfortable Batman was with hugging him._

_Bruce forced himself to keep smiling back, taking his cape to drape it around the shivering man as best he could. Really, did Flash have to pick someplace to hold a pity party in that was so far from the heating system? It was cold up here. He didn't want Wally to get sick._

_One of many things Bruce didn't desire._

_Damn Kent and his idea they share the burden of saving the world. Superman should have taken this part of the plan as well as the final... action. The alien could have easily played the role of consoling lover with Wayne doing the public dressing down scenes. Kent knew his sullen partner was sub par when it came to displaying the social passions more than was absolutely necessary. Even as playboy Bruce Wayne, socialite, he didn't keep any single lover 24/7._

_Batman excelled at intimidation; The Dark Knight of Gotham didn't_ _ do _ _emotional displays!_

_Or hadn't before now. He'd best learn to an extent if only during private moments spent with Flash. Secret rendezvous like this one._

_Bruce glanced around at their precarious position, seeking a distraction._

_"I thought you didn't like heights?"_

_"Don't," came Flash's candid reply, "Thought nobody would think to look for me here. I always go to the cafeteria or my room, you know? But I didn't want to be found yet. Didn't think even Superman let alone anyone else would try so hard."_

_"I see."_

_Flash giggled into his chest, but his returning fear was palpable. "Yeah...do you think you could keep holding me like this someplace a bit closer to a flatter surface? I really_ _ don't _ _like heights unless I'm in high gear. Can't fall if I'm running fast enough."_

_"I think getting you down would be best, though I could stay like this for longer."_

_Wally gave an amused snicker. "I love you too, Bats."_

_Not that West seemed to care that Batman did not wear his feelings on his sleeve like Wally did....the stupid,_ _ stupid _ _, trusting kid thought he saw love there anyway._

_'_ _ Man _ _', Batman silently corrected his choice of words. The stupid, selfless_ _ man _ _._

_Bruce hugged him closer than was absolutely necessary as he prepared a cel-line to get them down and felt an odd warmth at doing so._

_'No. This was not going to our original plan. I needed to stay inwardly detached.'_

_Whether the world was saved or not,_ _ Batman _ _knew then that he was not going to come out of this unscathed._

* * *

[Current Time: inside Question's apartment]

"Huh. Seen black widows exhibit more care for a mate,” Sage pronounced in judgment of the tale. “Low...using affection to deceive then leaving him to the slaughter."

The Question's insightful rebuke brought Jabberwocky's awareness back to the present.

"In reality my intention was to slow the ascent to that very slaughter. We never wanted Wally to die; never think we wanted that. His death was to us a necessary evil. We felt it had to be done should he ever reach his potential. As for _Batman's_ part in the lies...my hand was forced to it then," a defensive Jabberwocky growled. "It wasn't like I _enjoyed_ it."

_That was another deception (how much easier they spilled forth these days since becoming Lord Batman from when he'd been just plain Batman.) The sex had been the best of his life. Wally had been a dream lover: always there when he wanted him, reluctantly leaving him alone when he didn't, considerate of his needs, willing to do anything for him; even risking unnecessary injury and rebuke by watching his back during battles when he was supposed to be solely teamed with another._

_Clark had thought Bruce's uncomfortableness with Wally's idolization hilarious until Wayne had stopped being embarrassed by the unabashed adulation. Then Clark had gotten a bit envious of it. Lois Lane was headstrong and would rather die than capitulate over anything...even for Superman; Wally had been practically tripping over himself to be pleasing to Batman while asking nothing in return save that Batman accept him in his life._

"Was I supposed to risk known existence for the sake of one man?" Jabberwocky asked of The Question. "I only meant to confide the matter with the Martian, Clark...a couple of the magic users. Unfortunately, others found out about Flash's potential and demanded preventative action." He grimaced, recalling the late evening call from Waller, head of the American government's CADMUS organization created to watch and potentially nullify freelance super heroes in case they went rogue.

...

_"Are you aware, Batman, that The Flash has developed a fan base amongst some of the Wayne Tech scientists? One has started a blog solely about your League's famous speed demon that is citing his past battles and what else he might be capable of. I hope it's all just scientific fantasizing over a national hero as some of his conclusions are rather frightening. It_ _ is _ _just fantasy, right? Because frankly, some of those ideas have got my head scientist excitedly poring over his graphics calculator and if he's excited about this, I'm concerned, and if I'm concerned, the Pentagon gets nervous and if the Pentagon gets nervous, the President gets antsy and if the--"_

_"Understood. Batman out."_

...

Question's aim never wavered. “You used his emotions against him.”

"You sound surprised. Any crime fighter/world saver does that. You in all likelihood do the same.

Based on what J'onn gleaned from reading his mind, Wally felt an... _attachment_ to both I and Superman that was more than mere friendship or hero worshiping. It was just a matter of deciding which of us would play the role of romantic interest in order to keep an even closer watch on his life."

Vic grunted in a neutral manner. "Naturally...since Clark had already been chosen to do the actual murder...you were picked to play Wally's lover. Use his emotional openness against him."

_Yes...Clark had been rather insistent on that point. He'd pointed out that he was committed to Lois Lane; Bruce was 'free to cater to another person's fantasy'._

Jabberwocky hissed. "Of course I took advantage of his open naivety. It was a mission that could not be allowed to fail--- _any_ means necessary to save our world.

By the time I realized these feelings of Wally's were no longer one-sided, it was too late. He'd already become too powerful. The others noticed it when he utterly destroyed the very molecular structure of Brainiac.

We set the time for his termination. I could not publicly stand with him against J'onzz and Kent over the fate of the Earth itself; even so, I did attempt to save him the night before. Foolishly, I confessed everything and that I would help him hide from the other superheroes. I believed I would be able to pull off keeping him alive." Lord Batman swallowed. "Whether I could or not became moot. Wally latched onto my original reason for taking him as a lover and got angry, disbelieving that things had since changed. I had no time to convince him my feelings had turned genuine."

_West walked knowingly into Luthor's trap to_ _ hurt _ _me._

_It worked._

* * *

_._

_Take care that no one hates you justly. ~Publilius Syrus._

_._

* * *

[Time Unknown: Pre-Justice Lord Earth]

_.._

_And if I claim to be a wise man..._

_.._

_"But..? You said....you promised...always." The red-head looked utterly bewildered by what he'd just heard, hands clutching the book that Bruce had given him as a Christmas gift just last month: a first edition of_ _ Alice's Adventures in Wonderland _ _by Lewis Carroll. "This is a joke, right? April Fools Day come around again already? C'mon, Bats, smile....just....smile. Tell me it's a joke." Flash groaned at his lover's continued stony silence and sank down into himself on the floor, letting the book drop from nerveless fingers. It fell open to an illustration of the Mad Tea Party. "It was all a fantasy..like this story is. You gave me a_ _ fantasy _ _life...some wild party filled with marvelous stories to keep me distracted before the Queen of Hearts comes to take me to a mock trial and yell 'Off with his head?"_

_Bruce walked over with the intent to sit beside him. However, before he could do so, Wally was again standing upright. The shock had already gone--anger replacing it. Bruce was forcibly reminded that while Wally might have a non-confrontational nature most of the time, when something did seriously tick him off it was like watching a storm roll in. Normally, such rare displays of his hot temper were reserved for really annoying villains. Now those fiery green eyes were directed at Batman._

_At him._

_“Wally...”_

_"Shut up! You told me---Fuck that. You_ _ promised _ _to love me_ _ always _ _. Do you have any idea what the word_ _ always _ _means to me? To any speedster? Always = forever no matter what!"_

_"Securing your affection was a logical course of action to take then," Bruce sought to appease him with the words he'd spent the last hour devising. "I didn't do it to hurt you, but to help make your last years more...enjoyable." (Even to his own hearing his excuse sounded really lame now.)_

_.._

_It surely means that I don't know..._

_.._

_"Help make my last years..." Wally's chuckle was as bitter as a tincture of apricot kernels. "Is that what you call it--helping? Did you even_ _ try _ _to find a solution? Goddamn it, Bruce--did you even_ _ try _ _?"_

_Bruce closed his eyes as he suddenly couldn't bare to see that look of betrayal mixed with hot anger on Wally's face. "I tried. Everyone who knew tried."_

_“Then maybe not enough people were told!”_

_ “ _ _ Liar _ _," Wally hissed out when Bruce failed to answer. "_ _ That's a damned lie  _ _because_ _ Batman _ _always finds another way." He ran around the other man for a moment at just above normal human speed; merely thinking on this new, unpalatable info as his hands (while bunched into fists) were not punching his lover or anything else...yet. The speedster stopped on a dime, purposefully not looking at Bruce as he pretended to be merely talking to himself. "Unless it's just The Flash. He's not worth bothering about, was that it?" Another run around Bruce. "Or...Right...of course. I'm blind. Obviously, you didn't want to find another way; not with such a convenient out." He grabbed his own head, facial muscles taut like he was about to scream. "I can't believe_ _ The Dark Knight _ _lied for the first time on my account. Oh man, they'll put that on my tombstone: Flash, the Fastest Man Alive and Corrupter of Batman."_

_There was nothing I could do," Batman reiterated, and cursed himself for having 'nothing' better to argue with than such a paltry statement._ _ Nothing _ _they could do?_

_(Except talk with you from the first. Why didn't we think of that: that Wally might have been able to come up with his own solution? Were we that scared of the possibilities that we didn't want to risk a long-term alternative? Or did we just automatically dismiss any ideas he might have had as irrelevant because we didn't think him capable of having good ideas?)_

..

On a stormy sea of moving emotion...

..

_This was frustrating and stupid. Reasons and blame could be talked over later. They didn't have time_ _for this emotional dancing._

_"Wally..." voicing the name elicited a hissing snarl from it's owner._

_"Fuck no!_ _ No _ _! Don't you say my name. Don't you_ _ dare _ _ever say my name again. You lost the right to even think it. You_ _ used _ _me and I was too blind to notice. Huh...Ironic, eh? Your the Bat, but_ _ I _ _was the blind one. Damn. I hate you."_

_Bruce winced at the epithet. "Don't say that, Wally." (What have we done?)_

..

Tossed about like I'm a ship on the ocean...

..

_"Why? Spoken so many lies now that actual truth hurts your ears? You all lied. I_ _ hate _ _you..,how could I have been so_ _ stupid _ _?" Wally looked up to the heavens and screamed, "Nothing changes. I'm still such the...the_ _ kid _ _! Stupid, trusting,_ _ kid _ _!"_

_"Don't say that. Please listen to me. We don't have time for this._ _ You _ _don't have time. In the morning a disguised J'onzz will be here to drop you off at LexCorp for the sham interview. You must have gone into hiding by then because if you refuse to go to that job now Clark_ _ will _ _assassinate you himself." (God, help me...what have_ _ I _ _done?)_

_"No. NO MORE LIES! " Wally screamed into his face._

_"Damn it, Wally,_ _ listen _ _ to _ _ me _ _. Yes, we made mistakes in judgment, but Luthor's trap to kill you is_ _ not _ _a lie!"_

_"The_ _ stupid kid _ _listened to you before;_ _ believed _ _you. Fucking, shit! How could I have thought Batman actually cared about me let alone_ _ loved _ _me? Were the rest of them all watching us? Maybe taking turns in the monitor room---verifying that you had the little idiot firmly wrapped around your dick...as we.._ _as I..."He tore at his scalp so ferociously, a tuft of hair came out. "Shit, shit,shitshitsht...youwereALLlaughing, weren't you?!"_

..

I set a course for winds of fortune...

..

_"What? No! Gods, Wally, how could you think that?!" Bruce put a hand to his forehead, rubbed it; attempted to calm down._ _ This _ _was what happened when feelings ruled over reason! Yet even knowing it, he still couldn't seem to recapture a total sense of objectivity...especially as he hadn't even contemplated before what Wally had immediately thought of. Wasn't_ _ he _ _supposed to be the more paranoid of the two?_

_Had some of the League been spying on them?_

_"I...don't know. Maybe. They never said if they were watching to confirm..."_

_Wally's eyes got huge. "Ohmy... It was a freaking joke...You mean they might have...they_ _ could _ _have been?" He bent over and dry heaved, wiping his mouth with his sleeve when the attack of nausea was over. "Great. Fucking_ _ great _ _. They never actually bothered to R.S.V.P for your little peep show, but you can't be sure they didn't...didn'...? That just makes me feel so much better!"_

_Batman floundered for something--anything--to say to soothe his companion. His feverishly concocted escape plan...everything to save Wally's life.... It was all unraveling. He'd utterly overlooked the possibility that Wally's emotions would run over his common sense to such an extreme that it would be the man's very nature that would get him killed. He should have known better. Emotionally, West was a_ _raging wildfire to Batman's otherwise intractable ice. A glacier could last for millennium slowly changing it's surroundings, but given the chance a wild fire would happily dance around the glacier and end up consuming itself into extinction in the blink of an eye._

_Wally was hell bent on extinguishing himself._

_Worse, his fire had melted enough of Bruce's icy barrier to the point it was difficult to get control of the situation. He felt everything before him was no longer moored--things slipping out of his grasp as they were turned into slush._

_“I... Forgive me." (You're always the first to forgive people's mistakes. Do it one more time, Wally. Just the_ _ once _ _more.)_

_"Forgive? Forgive? For_ _ this _ _farcical Wonderland of yours?!" He jabbed a finger at the book left abandoned on the floor._

_"Yes."_

..

But I hear the voices say...

..

_"No! It's far too late for pretty tales of a naive kid and talking animals. This is reality, Batman. I may be useless for all but running, but as a speedster I_ _ do _ _understand some things--like Time; so grab a dictionary and note this:_

_I hate you_ _ now _ _. I'll hate you_ _ then _ _. Even if I should somehow survive this...should somehow return...I'll hate you_ _ always _ _. Got that, master Great Detective?_

_ HATE. _

_ YOU. _

_ ALWAYS _ _!"_

_Stunned, Batman knelt down to pick up the book. Watched by baleful green eyes, he carefully placed it with utmost care back on its shelf and left; physically unharmed by the furious West, but emotionally blasted._

* * *

[Current Time: inside Question's apartment]

Jabberwocky's hand trembled a little, not caring if Question saw it. The memory was still so fresh; the pain just as raw.

Under the circumstances, Jabberwocky had been surprised that Wally hadn't destroyed the tome immediately after he'd departed the room. Perhaps he just hadn't felt like bothering to do so...after all, the speedster had his impending date with death to contemplate.

Time passed, but it hadn't helped his equilibrium when Nighthawk had found the book left in Wally's room and recognized it as the book his mother had cherished more than any other; that the fact that another Bruce Wayne would give away such a book at all spoke volumes (no pun intended) to how he felt about that person.

He hadn't needed to explain the significance of the gift.

You can't keep secrets from yourself.

Batman's hard gaze left any doubt about what he would do to the older if the latter so much as flirted with _their_ West even though Wally was not currently in a romantic relationship with anyone. _Their_ Wally was sacrosanct. His choice in a mate would be one the speedster desired and not pushed upon him by a pining stranger.

As if Jabberwocky _was_ an unknown.

"Now I have another chance...with a second, _untainted_ West as if the clock's been rewound. I'll explain things early to him _this_ time. He'll come to appreciate our position and his place in our world as it's savior. Flash always loved getting praised as a hero."

  
  


That last sentence from the darker Batman was spoken with much more confidence, Question noted with unease. Something on the card table had changed within the last moments. An additional element that this Jabberwocky felt would work in his favor. Question had an idea what it was and it would only mean ill for him and/or West. Speaking of whom, Vic thought it would be wonderful if Flash woke up real soon as he would likely be in need of his backup. Even if it was just to make a quick run to the local Hub City gun shoppe to pick up some fire bombs and kryptonite bullets.

"Enough to go along with genocide? Neither Batman nor Flash would condone this." Vic gestured to the couch where the speedster had continued to lie comatose since touching his laptop. "Our West has gone through a lot, but is not the same as the one who died anymore than you and our Batman are carbon copies. He'll reject the idea of killing; reject _you_ because you took the selfish path rather than that of a true hero. If need be, he'll fight you even onto old age."

"Perhaps he will think I am a villain...at first. But as the months roll on into each other? His will power is not that strong." Jabberwocky smiled in satisfaction just as a large twin of Clark Kent wearing neutral gray and cream tones crashed through the window. Question didn't even bother wasting a bullet. He threw the gun down as the useless toy it had become. His action didn't stop _Kent_ from wrestled the detective into a choke hold, "Well,” Jabbewocky” continued, “now my partner is here so our discussion on the matter is moot. You're correct:  I'm not your altruistic Batman ready to condone the sanctity of life over everything else...any more than _White Rabbit_ here is a Boy Scout of righteous virtue."

Lord Superman gripped the Question's head upwards, causing the smaller man to start fighting to breathe. If Vic hadn't been so limber, his neck would have been broken then and there.

Alter-Clark Kent's eyes dilated as he switched to a sensory aid that could see beyond the Question's PseudoDerm mask. "You seem familiar," the corrupted Kal-El mused as he considered the facial features that were revealed to his x-ray vision. "I recall it now...Charles Victor S..something or other of little consequence--a hack who thought he was a rival journalist of Clark Kent's level. I remember you lauding The Flash when The League had instructed selected media to ignore his achievements. But you were not as susceptible to J'onn's telepathy as most, were you, Charles? Had to go and write that you thought The Flash was unfairly suppressed by The League. Indeed, you immediately went and got all buddy buddy with West in some misguided search for _The Truth_. But you couldn't stop with just that. No, you became a  thorn in my side after Flash's 'death' as you refused to let, as you so succinctly phrased it: _"the fishy stink coming from The Watchtower"_ alone...not until I crushed your investigative initiative with a bit of selective surgery. Hardly worth my time, but it was a pleasure to watch the intelligence leech from your eyes. Or your other self's eyes. His drool was copious, though, as I recall. Should have brought along a roll of paper towels."

"Got me confused..with someone..else." Twisting his torso just so, The Question managed to deliver a kick to his assailant's body where no male was meant to be kicked.

For years Sage had sought the Ultimate Truth. Well, he'd found it at last and it was rather anticlimactic:

_Truth: Superman had_ _ not _ _been named 'The Man Of Steel' on a whim; although the name of any other dense metal would have served just as nicely._

Vic's foot felt like he'd tried to put a dent in a metal-reinforced concrete wall. Worse, Superman just kept looking on like he hadn't even felt it. Which he probably hadn't. From Vic's point of view it was all rather discouraging.

"He's named himself _The Question_ in this dimension," an indifferent Jabberwocky informed his team mate, "still a conspiracy investigator. Better than even their Batman. He figured everything out."

"How droll," White Rabbit chuckled in a sarcastic manner, "the Batman admits to having a better? The _question_ is what to do with him. It doesn't matter. Soon, both worlds will be without your interference, _Question_ , so perhaps I will not need to waste energy repeating myself here."

"It is debatable whether anyone would notice the change from _the crackpot_ to _a cracked pot_ anyway," Jabberwocky smirked at the helpless Sage's expense. "He has a reputation as such. Kill him or not, we have to get going."

"Still..." White Rabbit grinned evilly. He shot at Question in the chest with just enough heat vision to ensure the man lingering pain without frying a fatal hole through the human's torso. Question grunted in agony before he crumbled to the floor, a large, black scorch mark staining his trench coat.

"So..the Lords betray again," he wheezed out, ignoring the alien's mocking presence to address Jabberwocky. "One problem...still remains untouched...West..doesn't...love you."

"Maybe not," a tight lipped Jabberwocky agreed. "Yet he does feel an inordinate amount of affection for your Batman and Superman. There is not that much difference between us--none that he will notice before it is too late."

"West...won't turn into a murderer for anyone."

"Anyone can learn to kill...under the right motivation,"White Rabbit smirked at him. "I'm a prime example. Dealing out death is easy when you've no other choice. Your jackrabbit...well, ours now...will come to a like frame of mind just like I did. When the March Hare razes this paltry dimension in a fit of insane rage...then he'll realize that the only way to stop the enemy from obliterating the only world he has left is to destroy it first."

"Wally will either fail in this task and we all die," Jabberwocky added, "or he'll succeed and _Batman_ will be there to comfort him." He tilted his head as a foreign thought entered his mind.

"Cheshire Cat has arrived with the car. Time to say _nighty nite_." White Rabbit fired point blank at The Question's forehead, watching with a smile as the man went limp. He viciously threw Question's body out of the way as Jabberwocky strode unhindered to the couch and gently gathered up Wally's comatose body in the blanket. He carried him outside while White Rabbit looking on with a grimace of distaste.

_Patience._

_Bruce_ may have forgotten the debacle that had occurred after foolishly allowing himself to fall in love the first time, but Clark remembered how Wayne's nostalgic folly had resulted in their defeat at the hands of an outdated League---and the ignoble way this West had toyed with him before he'd tossed _Lord Superman_ into a garbage receptacle. How Clark itched to make the Scarlet Speedster pay for  that humiliation, but his hands were tied for now. The duplicate was needed to perform vital surgery on a destructive force before it destroyed the universes. But afterward? Their Wally never could resist the offer to race--this one would behave no different. Once out of sight from Bruce, he'd carve out this second Wally's heart as the annoying speedster ran ahead. Lord Superman could already imagine the feel of the organ's weight in his hands as he admired it's rapid beat--before pulverizing it in front of it's owner's shocked green eyes.

* * *


	11. The Noiseless Patient Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every web is the express work of a spider.

**A Noiseless Patient Spider**

A noiseless, patient spider,  
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;  
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,  
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;  
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.  
  
And you, O my Soul, where you stand,  
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,  
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;  
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold;  
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.

~Walt Whitman

* * *

_[Current Time: inside Question's apartment]_

_Darkness._

_Consciousness._

_Memory._

_Pain._

_Negligible._

_Okay, not so negligible. He could still function around it._

_He'd have to. Non-negotiable point._

"Idiots...West won't...choose.....you." Question gasped as he painfully got to his feet, careful not to make any moves that threatened to send him back into an unconscious state. Thankfully, the S.T.A.R. Labs thermal-retardant vest and skull cap he'd worn under his Pseudoderm disguise had stopped the heat rays if doing nothing for the kick to his side; however, the extra protections had not kept him from temporarily being knocked unconscious from the force of the blow. The Mother of all headaches hurt like hell, but it was better than getting a free lobotomy or an aerated skull.

His digital clock told him only ten minutes had expired since he'd been knocked out. Of course, in ten minutes quite a lot could happen especially if those nasty relations of Cinderella had turned Batman's personal road toy into a Pumpkin with multiple horse power as they hightailed towards OZ.

Wonderland.

Damn. His thoughts were all messed up like Jack's crown after a rough tumble down a steep incline. If they turned out scrambled worse than before, Huntress Jill was going to be even more pissed at him than ever.

"Have to warn...Batman. Double cross." Holding his aching head and chest, Question limped over to his couch. He unzipped a cushion and extracted a lead-lined pouch. Within it was a rewired League communicator that Batman had given him before taking the tornado ride to Wonderland.

OZ.

Wonderland.

The Freaking Other Dimension who cared what it was called? He fumbled with the device with one hand while blindly searching through a cabinet drawer with the other. Odds and ends clattered to the floor. Moved onto the next cabinet.

"Code...code...damn this headache!...Humpty Dumpty...no....Walrus?"... _shit with this_..."Batman! The Lords changed in name only. Wayward Son living up to rep. Mean to keep West as a shield against Old Bonehead."

_Where the hell had Huntress put his pain killers?_

_Probably someplace the government would expect you to, like the bathroom._

_Dangerous place, bathrooms._

"Luthor?" A testimony to Wayne Tech's superior engineering capability, the tiny device let Batman's voice came through from another dimension with only minimal static. Vic would have been impressed if he wasn't currently sidetracked by a shitload of hurt.

"Original baldy. Cloak and Scythe. TweedleDee and TweedleDumb-ass are the least of our worries right now." He felt a larger stab of pain and tried to stifle a groan. "Damn!"

_Bathroom it is._

"Question? Are you all right?"

"Broken toe, rib, headache..amongst other complaints. I'll live. Probably as long as anyone else here will. No consolation as The Easter Bunny out there is going to crack the Earth like a bad egg once it realizes West is no longer part of the compass, having been pulled through A Wrinkle In Time. The Big Bad Wolf Bat is determined to eat Little Red Riding Hood all up and The Woodsman isn't going to take that lying down, is he?"

"March Hare and Wayward Son." Batman's voice corrected his mistake on the names.

Question would have shaken his head in amusement if he wasn't afraid the motion would cause him to faint again. "Only _you_ would be a stickler for name tags at Armageddon. By the way, posting a stickie reminder on my laptop to get revenge on you for all these cracked kiddie stories stuck in my head. Probably laced with subliminal images. Sleeper commands.

_Pain killers then an hour of meditation to get rid any mental parasites._

_Not that he had an hour to spare._

I'll make room for you in my appointment book. Batman out."

Victor grunted and wondered if the End of The World was imminent or if he had time to hobble it to his medicine cabinet and face it while doped up on aspirin.

* * *

.

_Our thoughts are unseen hands shaping the people we meet. Whatever we truly think them to be, that's what they'll become for us. ~Richard Cowper_

.

* * *

[Twenty minutes ago: Keystone City: LexCorp Main Headquarters--Midwest Division]

"Mr. Luthor?"

Several eyes surreptitiously glanced at the bald man wearing an ultra-expensive business suit, quietly gauging whether there would be a bonus in tonight's work or the end of a job. Working for LexCorp could either make you or break you. With luck, their coworker would be helping them get a bonus and not a termination slip.

Alexander 'Lex' Luthor, the owner of LexCorp turned to face the low-level flunky who had spoken up while manning the scanner.

"Yes?"

_-Perhaps now? They had certainly been kept waiting long enough-_

"Sir...the signal is on the move again."

_-Finally!-_

Luthor smiled with satisfaction. It was about time. "Then he is on his way to Central City. Very well. Alert--"

"Um...sir?" the flunky breathed deeply in an attempt to cover his nervousness. LexCorp had a reputation for 'killing the messenger' who brought very bad news to the boss. The other workers tensed and tried to look even more busy than before. "The signal is not heading inland...it's moving towards the New England coast."

" _What_?" Luthor ground his teeth in anger. Why would the fool head in that direction when they'd been carefully herding him to his hometown?

"Tentative computer tracking puts his most likely destination...Gotham City."

_-Gotham? What the hell was at Gotham?_ _Unless?_ _No...surely not?-_

" _Mr. Jenson_...." Luthor stalked over to his second-in-command, Mr. Arthur Jenson, ready to shred him alive. “Explain.”

_-Why is he still here? I don't like him. Get rid of him._ -

His aide sweated. (It wasn't that he wanted to be here. After that terrifying episode in Metropolis, Jenson would have happily been quit of anything to do with the Luthor or his obsession with a meta, but he was under contract and Jenson had been in a high enough position to know that reneging on a contract here was quite literally suicidal. Still, if you stayed within the executive's good graces...)

"A moment, please, sir. I'm doing diagnostics now....verification complete. The chip is functioning properly...no indications of tampering...the surrounding fluid's DNA is from the same meta subject." He frowned at the display. "The GPS shows the subject on a main highway. Not near one, but actually _on_ the highway.” He frowned at his readings. “Despite that...electrical impulse patterns in the spinal column indicate it's not moving under its own power. In fact, they are so low in intensity that the subject must be either asleep or unconscious. Possibility is it is taking public transport. Considering that the subject is a highly recognizable fugitive from the law, that hardly seems like something it would do unless the stress has lowered its intelligence level."

_-I'll lower you. Oh, what a good idea. Excellent.-_

“Excepting my own presence in it, I'm beginning to wonder about the intelligence level of this very room, Mr. Jenson. I hired you to get resul-”

"Sir!” Another employee dared to interrupt before Luthor could comment further on Jenson's findings. “CADMUS is on line eight. Reports are in that the Batman was seen outside Sage's apartment. Also sightings of a man fitting the description of Superman, but dressed as a civilian. They entered a Lexus sports car driven by an unknown man....The Batman carrying something human shaped. They are tracking and want to know what action to take."

_-Batman and Superman? Impostors?-_

“Follow at a discreet distance for now, stay alert. I will not tolerate the loss of the target.” Luthor commanded. He locked eyes with a worried Jenson. “Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Your analysis?”

Batman, Superman and most likely an unmasked Question. Yet... "Superman?" Jenson inhaled. "I thought the alien was--"

-Is.-/ “Is.”

  
  


Jenson fought not to show a scowl as he was interrupted by a new voice--one that had in just the past two days become a close confidant of his employer and a threat to his position. The object of his jealousy was--as always whenever he and Jenson shared the same workspace—a Caucasian brunette sitting cross-legged on a large chair, staring unblinkingly at nothing through muddy brown eyes. Taken at face value the newcomer was of unassuming stature and appearance; however, that seemed to be just a veneer. His eyes....there was something about those seemingly human yet otherworldly eyes...

The odd man was quite unnerving, but nobody dared to complain about his presence, not when their boss seemed so taken with the newbie.

The stranger didn't wear an I.D. Tag, not so much as as a set of initials embroidered on his lab coat. Luthor didn't ever address him by name. Everyone, including the newbie knew when Luthor was addressing him and him alone. It had taken a bit of digging for Jenson to find out anything on him and what he'd found was...

Again...unnerving.

A threat.

Under the circumstances, Arthur loathed the man.

  
  


What sent shivers through his spine was the feeling that this dislike was mutual.

  
  


“What do you mean?” Jenson challenged. “The reports-”

_-Superman is-/_ "Superman is currently in The Fortress of Solitude, recuperating between sessions under the knife with the surveillance of Dr. Pieter Anton Cross. The Green Lantern is with him, having aided Dr. Mid-Nite with the reconstructive surgery to his intestinal cavity."

_-That was fun-_

"We can't possibly be sure of that."

_-Moron. Hurt him soon. Scare him first.-_

_-I am always-/_ "I am always sure." For just a moment, the detached expression of the speaker glimmered with malicious glee as the unseeing eyes shifted to lock on Jenson's.

Feeling uncomfortable, Jenson quickly looked away.

  
  


"Mr. Luthor...I must protest his presence here. I realize you did not authorize one, but I've completed a background check as is my duty for new hires with platinum clearance status. This Mr. John Dee may have been an adequate if forgettable former hire in the lower ranks, but has been registered as completely insane by the doctors at Stryker Prison. He can't possibly be a trustworthy source of infor--mat..info...inf.." Jenson felt an odd sensation prickle at his mind like the precursor of a headache. As if in slow motion, the aide turned his head and saw that Dee was staring at him with an intensely malignant look as if he was the ugliest water bug Dee had ever beheld and would like nothing better than to be rid of. Arthur was suddenly reminded of an advertisement for a horror movie featuring a demonic ventriloquist dummy. His own vocal cords seemed to freeze in his larynx.

_Poor, Mr. Jenson. You don't like me, do you? I assure you the feeling is mutual. In fact, you should run away. Oh, but how can you manage saving yourself? What to do that won't end in failure? Where to go where you can't be found? You're trapped, Arthur, and I am quite enjoying watching you slowly realize the deadly reality of your predicament. Tell me...how does it feel to be the naked rat strapped to the slab; body and mind subject to the whims of your owner?_

A shiver of horror went through the aide as he realized that John Dee had not moved his mouth--the man had spoken directly into his mind.

_-Mr. Jenson--/_ "Mr. Jenson..." Dee continued aloud in his _normal_ creepy voice that sounded like it should be an echo though there wasn't really one there, "you're feeling ill. You want very much to leave before you embarrass yourself."

Jenson felt a growing sickness strike his innards, "Yes."

_-You are one-/_ "You are one breath away from an unpleasant event. Run. Now."

The room of people watched as the gasping aide ran from the room, but not before they heard horrible noises coming from him just before the doors slid shut; leaving behind Dee, Luthor, and a handful of startled technicians. Luthor dismissed the others for a break figuring that they'd be useless for the next few minutes anyway. Besides, he and his unusual partner had things to discuss. The techs wasted no time accepting the offer...all choosing an _alternate exit_ from the one Arthur Jenson had used because, frankly, nobody really wanted to know. Luthor couldn't rightly blame them.

_-Boring twits.-_

_ John Dee closed his eyes. _

Once they were alone, Luthor knelt down to the eye level of the master of dreams. The eyes opened again. The glassy look of the insane criminal did not phase Lex at all. At least, not that he'd admit it. What did give him pause was the way the Dr. Destiny seemed to get flashes of intelligence in his eyes that warred with the deadness, sometimes like a strobe light flashing on and off in quick succession; as if he was fighting to regain his lost sanity.

"And what," Luthor huffed, "was _that_ little scene all about?"

_-I don't like_ -/"I don't like him."

Luthor mulled that over as he waited for more. Dee had not particularly showed a liking or a disliking for anyone before now. Or maybe he had and Lex had been too busy with his own plans to notice. To be certain, the billionaire did not particularly care what Dee might think or want as long as he delivered his end of the bargain and agreed to leave Luthor's own head alone. As far as he could tell, Dee had been honoring that. Unfortunately, acquiescence to Luthor's demands there did not equate into his fully answering all inquiries. Dee spoke only when he desired to; no more and no less.

“Any particular reason for this dislike?”

_-Jenson saw the-_ /“Jenson saw the speedster as a thing. It was disrespectful.”

“I see. Does that mean I've been disrespectful regarding my pet as well?”

_-No-_ /“No.”

“No?”

_-A pet is-/_ “A pet is a different concept from a thing.”

When no other explanation was forthcoming on Dee's tiff with Jenson, he asked a question that to him was of far more importance anyway.

"Superman is still incapacitated?"

_-Superman is as weak-/_ "Superman is as weak as a babe. He's unused to sustaining injury at all, let alone internal ones that are harder for the sunlight to reach and repair. In order to undo the damage, they have had to cut to the heart of it, repair a section, let the sunlight heal that, then start again on another section. Tedious work. I would say he will be out of your hair for days--but I'm not fond of lies."

"Then he could be up and about soon?" Luthor pressed.

_-My statement was-/_ "My statement was to imply that you have no hair for him to get into. Not that he'll be in a state to bother us." Luthor bared his teeth at Dee's attempt to be cruel.

"Fortunately for you, remarks such as that failed in their sting long ago. Superman, however, always manages to land in a blow. I've known that alien for far longer than you have," Lex argued, "and he as a gift for turning up at the wrong time."

_-The Martian is a-/_ "The Martian is a mental marionette whose strings are mine to pull should I choose. He is lost in dreams of Martian springs and moonlight beams. The Green Lantern has developed a need to not leave Superman alone for even an instant lest the alien die. Wonder Woman has disavowed Man's World, all thought of returning gone from her mind, content to stay by the side of her mother. The League is in a shambles and its former members dispersed about the globe to deal with their own little troubles. Do you still doubt my control, Alexander? Need I give you another example of what I can do?"

Luthor nearly snarled again at the impertinence, but kept his tone even. The convict that he'd extradited from Stryker still wielded immense power for all that he had several screws loose.

Instead, Lex Luthor grimaced, recalling how with surprising ease Dr. Destiny had not only managed to infiltrate the minds of much of the general populace, but also of most of the Justice League. Not even Grodd's own version of mind control had succeeded in doing so much damage in such little time to his enemies. Dee's power was so formidable it was a wonder that he'd managed to be bested by Batman at all. Indeed, it had only been a couple of days and already Luthor was forced to look into ways to terminate his _business partner_ once the lunatic's usefulness had been exhausted.

"No. I do not need any examples. Do not waste my time or money."

_-Then comprehend that-/_ "Then comprehend that I have the power to give you everything you ever wanted."

Luthor chuckled. "Did you fail to realize it yet? _Everything_ is what I want. Nonetheless you would deny me that goal."

_-_ _Do not play stupid_ _-/_ "Do not play stupid. I said I have the power to give all, but not that I would. Yetyou will be receiving more than you ever had before. I, however, have my own need and it will be fulfilled even at the cost of your consummate greed. _That_ is non-negotiable."

Luthor frowned at him. "You owe me for rescuing you from that prison, Dee. Tell me why you want him."

_-Your ego is-/_ "Your ego is out of proportion to your brain. The knowledge of _why_ would be of no use to you."

It took all of Lex's iron will not to punch Dee in the face. ""Try me."

_-Don't_ _you_ _try--_ "Don't _you_ , try _me_ , Luthor. I agreed to work with you for reasons of my own. None of them involve _liking_ you. Now, be silent. I must find out what has happened to Wallace West that has sent him further from his home and correct his course." For a minute the eyes seemed even more shuttered. Then they 'opened' again, shining with such an intense fury that Luthor unconsciously took a half step back at the sudden change.

_-NO! How dare-/_ "NO! How dare _they_ interfere?!" Dee trembled with rage. "I will make them regret coming here." He grabbed Luthor by the front of his custom silk shirt, eyes still lit with anger. "Remove all authority figures from the route. He will steer clear of major population centers until he reaches Central City, but I don't want him spooked."

"Who?"

_-Who do you think-/_ "Who do you think, you shiny-pated _moron_!" Dee roared with wild-eyed rancor. He let go, pushing Luthor away. "I will not let them win again. Never again." He fell back into the chair and returned to looking half dead, voice monotone. "You will take custody of The Flash when he reaches the city limits."

Luthor realized he'd been holding his breath and let it out. Getting rid of Dee had just become top priority. The man was not only as mad as a March Hare, he was violently so---something that until now he'd not shown any signs of.

"Just what does that entail?" he cautiously asked, not willing to provoke another fit from the mind manipulator.

_-Make him miserable-/_ "Make him miserable the worst way you can, but short of permanent harm. He is not to die. You may make him wish to do so for the time you have with him. Be warned, Luthor. If he does die, so will you and in such a horrible manner you will go mad before oblivion hits.”

"And then?"

_-And then All-/_ "And then All shall be complete," Dee smiled like a cat who'd eaten his fill of cream. "All shall get rewarded when he comes Home of his own accord." He closed his eyes.

_Wally, Wally, Wally West--go. Go west. Go, West, for that way lies home. Only that way lies H_ _ome _ _._

* * *

  
  


 


	12. The March Hare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the story by O. Henry titled The Ransom Of Red Chief, the kidnappers regretted stealing away a ginger-haired kid. It was not a rewarding experience for them.
> 
> They got off lucky.
> 
> Say hello to The March Hare.

* * *

.

_Hatreds are the cinders of affection. ~Walter Raleigh_

.

* * *

.

_-Wally..Danger.... Must wake...Just a little...Need to Protect Wally...dream...not sleep-_

_ No. He'd slid down into the abyss of slumber and the darkness was...nice. _

_-Not sleep-_

However, the Voice that had taken residence in his head was not. It was insistent, persistent, and able to reach down into even the depths of unconsciousness to speak to the bare whispers of Wally Psyche---to _nag_ him into compliance. Really, the Voice--

_'Dee'_ , the barely aware part of his mind dredged up that fact from Memory.

_Well, golly gee... Whatever--Whomever--as long whomever it was went away!_

_-Not sleep...Follow.-_

The Voice-That-Had-Been-A-Mystery-But-Was-Really-Dee was a worse pain in the butt than a thousand Batmen demanding his acquiescence to standing Monitor Duty.

A few seconds of blessed silence.

_-Wally_ _ will _ _come...MUST PROTECT-_

Happy with the surrounding oblivion of deep sleep and its accompanying serenity, Wally's unconsciousness wailed in denial at the very idea the voice was proposing. He didn't want to wake up. If he did so, Question would just tell him more horrible things about the state of the world and his piece in it. His old friends as well as complete strangers would attempt to do bad things to him.

_Waking was the danger_ ; sleep was the best place to be. He didn't relish leaving its comfort just to face stark reality again.

Most of all, he didn't want to have to wonder why it was that someone as nefarious as Dr. Destiny was so dead set on protecting him. Protecting him from what? _Which_ whats?

Did he really want to know?

_ No. That's the whole point of remaining in a deep sleep, stupid. _

_-Wally kept safe...listen to the music...only to the music...to the music..the music-_

Please? Please, please, please with a banana split sundae on top? He didn't want to...

There was music. Music in his head....getting stronger. He tried to ignore it.

Music was like Batman...the more you tried to tune it out the more insistent it got.

_-Wally is warm...Wally is safe...will not allow hurt...safe...safe...listen..._ _ listen _ _-_

Dragged partially awake by the hypnotic voice, Wally couldn't stop the drift into an alternative state of REM, one closely linked to Dr. Destiny's realm. He let the songs fill his dream state until they were all he knew. All he was aware of at all; unknowing that his mouth responded by syncing to the lyrics that were now in his head:

  
  


_Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone_

_I hear you call my name_

_And it feels like home..._

_home... home..._

_ home _ _..._

* * *

Wallace Rudolph West's eyes snapped open.

Closed to half slits revealing a fogged, half-aware state.

"Home."

"Wally?" Blue eyes refused to meet green, afraid to acknowledge them.

Afraid to know what they held.

.

He had West's head securely cushioned on one arm as he held him, but Jabberwocky's attention had lain in another direction than the speedster's lips; thus Wayne barely paid heed to the little cry of distress the comatose speedster uttered other than to absently murmur a word of comfort. The snatches of muted singing, however, were not so easy to discount.

_ Like A Prayer _ _from Madonna? But... No....no, not_ _ now _ _. He couldn't be moving already. They weren't prepared!_

With growing anxiety, Jabberwocky gingerly began removing his hand from where he had inserted it. Its retreat seemed slower than he wanted it to be, and that only increased his sense of unease. Out of the corner of his eye, Wayne saw that his companions and the outside of the car moved as if caught in the onset of an eerie stillness.

Shit!

_Don't panic. It could just be this dimension's West who was unconsciously affecting motion and not_ _ him _ _at all. The doppelganger speedster's latent abilities were why the others had agreed to come here and get him; similarities between the two could very well include musical tastes. In fact it was probable._

_Don't panic._

_._

The body in his arms jerked.

Those eyes were now fully opened and looking right at him, West put on a burst of speed that found one arm draped with deceptive casualness around Jabberwocky's neck and pale lips close to the Dark Knight's head.

Perversely enough, Bruce felt his blood _chill_ as Wally's warm breath filled his ear.

_"When you call my name, it's like a little prayer, I'm down on my knees_ ,bats..bats...bats flying above my Bats. They're always there watching. Little unseeing eyes, watching, waiting, knowing secrets.

Why did you prefer me on my knees, Bats? It kind of hurt. Didn't matter where...cave, Watchtower, mansion...some weird planet. Always wanting to keep me down.

But, sshh...don't ready your denials yet. We'll have to be quiet now. Wally's resting to the lullaby. Mustn't wake him— _mustn't_.” the soft voice demanded. “He's gone through so much..and so much further to go. Needs his sleep."

.

The speedster's cheek slid down against Wayne's own, allowing his line of vision to descend from Jabberwocky's jaw line to denim clad legs. He snickered at the sight of where the older man's hand was: Bruce's frozen finger tips were caught in the act of brushing against a revealed triangular swatch of underwear nestled between two loose flaps of the blue material.

Bruce felt crimson blood trying to creep up from deeper veins into smaller capillaries, fighting against the growing feeling of inactivity. It failed, though, leaving his complexion pale as death.

Small mercies.

He wanted to say something in his defense--to move---yet though Jabberwocky's racing brain could think just fine, his body felt as if caught in rapidly hardening amber. His other five senses were functioning perfectly well, though, and that was not a comfort to the detective because he _knew_ what was happening and why:

Kinetic energy, selectively stolen from around the car, was rendering the occupants within each _paralyzed_ to varying degrees.

All save one.

.

"Oh... _bad,_ Batty.” the green eyes flashed between Bruce's face and his opened trousers. “ _Very naughty."_

The direct cause of the localized inertia they were in vibrated along with his giggles, his tone deceptively cheerful. Jabberwocky could almost delude himself that nothing had changed; except that he knew his lover well enough to be able to detect that _alien tinge of disdainful hate_ tainting the beloved voice.

_Even the last evening before Wally had purposefully gone to meet his doom, he'd never entertained_ _ direct _ _revenge on another. The Flash had found such concepts distasteful in the extreme. Flash was the one who was quickest to forgive even the worst slights. Flash--_

Wally's hand moved lightning fast to grab Jabberwocky's wrist as it was frozen above the opened zipper. For a moment, Bruce felt his hand being caressed with gentle fingers as if in acceptance of an apology.

Then there was a sharp snapping sound. Wayne gritted his teeth at the flare of pain which warned that at least one bone was broken.

_\--Flash was dead._

_His old Wally was died years ago._

"Mustn't be playing now--you're _working,"_ the changeling speedster smiled. _"_ That was Batman rule number one: _No playing with Wally when working_ 'cause Bat's a workaholic who dislikes distractions and a disobedient Wally was not to be tolerated."

_'Wally'_ reached out to stroke Jabberwocky's broken wrist between his own two hands, blithely raising it to kiss the damaged area he'd just created. Bruce felt the pain receded to a dull roar.

"Now after work...that was different,” Wally continued his mocking air of thoughtful reminiscing. “Who knew that under all that stiff armor you were the touchy-feely type? Well, I found out, didn't I, but you managed to keep it from everyone else. Unless you _had_ invited them to watch?” Raised eyebrow and a finger jab to the chest. “Never did really clarify that part, Bats, and you're normally such the stickler for details. Then again, you did like to hide things," he lifted one hand from the broken joint to run a finger along Wayne's lips, which felt a tingle at the soft touch, "especially from me."

"March Hare..." Jabberwocky hesitated, somewhat taken by surprise that he was being allowed to speak again. His mind was still deciding how to continue that sentence when the vise returned to his throat, rendering him mute once more.

"Come again?" The green eyes clouded with confusion, then swiftly cleared with wry understanding. "Oh, _right_...I remember something of that now. Yeah. Pigeon-holed again, am I? Typical. I would have to be _mad_ , being as Batman would never do something so _wrong_ as to incite righteous anger in his subordinate lover, so I'm the one _who's mad as the Hatter_...or you said the March Hare?” Wally shook his head ever so minutely. “Yeah, different character that.” Soft sigh of acceptance. “Fine and dandy. Whichever you want me to be, Bats. You're the one who chose our play-time roles. However,” he paused, thinking, “if I recall the plot of the book you gave me, (been a bit of awhile, understand, so forgive me any errors, I'm not _perfect_ like you) The March Hare just seemed to be confused _as perceived by other_ eyes. As from where The Hare stood he was perfectly sane. Really, _The Hatter_ was the truly crazy one once accused of _killing_ Time while regaling the Queen of Hearts with his display of eloquence. That characterization certainly fits _you_ , Bats. Now, the poem you've latched onto, The Jabberwocky one, that fits me, right enough. So you see _you_ should be The Mad Hatter and not Jabberwocky seeing as you were mad enough to have killed our Time together...and speaking of which..." Wally closed his eyes tight for a couple of seconds as if feeling and gauging the strength of some increasing discomfort. He grimaced.

" _Okay....fine. I_ _know_ _...can't dally here. Not an idiot. Give me a moment more.”_

“Any last words before I earn my hug? (He'd opened his eyes on the last sentence, clarifying his meaning by speaking the Wonderland quote directly to Lord Batman.)

_And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms my beamish boy!_ You know I never turn down the opportunity for a free hug, Bats. Hope you don't mind. Think of it as bettering the whole. Needs of the many and all of that." The harsh gaze was in direct opposition to the flippant words.

.

This was it.

He was going to die.

Jabberwocky sighed, resigned to his death. He was glad to feel his vocal cords and tongue released a second time so that he could at least apologize first. Maybe here where he felt more in control Wally would listen to him where he had once refused to? Probably not, but Bruce had to try.

"I never meant to hurt you, Flash...I wanted us--"

Again his voice was shut down before he could finish a sentence.

"Us?” The red head's face twisted in disgust. “Still with the fantasy of there being an _us_ rather than just a _you_ with me conveniently being there to warm your bed? Wallace West, the cordless humanoid bed warmer with added vibrator features...just touch the right buttons to turn it on." The red head gave him a look of--mockingly--mild reproof. " _Lies, lies, lies!_ Words hurt, _bad_ , Bats, don't you _ever_ learn? They said the pen is mightier than the sword, but you know, to really _stick_ it to a speedster cut to the chase, toss the pen, and use your sarcastic tongue: yours has a finer edge than any nib that ever touched paper. You _liked_ hurting me."

His expression turned into a thoughtful frown. "But then, everyone did. Got some sort of thrill in doing it, I think. That was okay...I should know to take it like a man. Better than a man, because I was a superhero and superheroes aren't supposed to cry. I had to learn to _suck it up_ ," humorless grin "often in more ways than one. You taught me that rule too. You were always full of rules, but the first item on the Teach Flash How To Act Properly agenda was no crying." His fingers formed little quote signs. "Weeping in guys wasn't seemly no matter the reasons. Tears were for _victims_ , not heroes...and (ugh) on and on the lectures; lather, rinse and repeat. Besides, getting the Bat's suit wet with Wally Emotional Residue was inexcusable as it might make for water stains on the Kevlar or cause Batman to melt (being the Wicked Witch of his West) and we couldn't have anything less than industrial-starch Batman in front of witnesses; someone might think you actually had a heart under all that armor plating. Anyway, it was all rather ironic, wasn't it--considering I was a _victim_ the whole time and so could have legitimately cried my eyes out every night if I wanted to." He sighed heavily, looking up into the others face before resting his head on the older man's shoulder.

"Oh, Bats.... I would have left you alone. I _would_ have. But you had to come and try to spoil it for me. Why did you have to do that, Batty? Are you jealous? That would be kind of funny...being jealous of me being with..well, _me_."

The tingle of release told Wayne he was being teased with the ability to converse again.

"Wally, please--"

Belatedly, Jabberwocky remembered their last conversation. West, as usual, was much faster both in memory and with the shut off valve. Obviously, he was not going to be allowed to finish voicing any thought that the March Hare found exception to and this was another one of those.

"You know, Bats, I vaguely recall something about protesting your right to use my _personal_ name anymore. You chose a new game to play here on this Earth 2.0, so now I'm officially _March Hare_ to you and yours. Let's stick to the playbill. No changing of characters once the curtain rose and the band played the intro. Heck, we're already entering the closing act."

"March Hare," Bruce's voice came out as a croak as his tongue felt like lead. Wally was stealing his energy again, more slowly this time. A thought occurred to him. Was it taunting him by purposefully stealing his voice, or was it also because the March Hare was somehow exhausting his own reserves by possessing West this way and was keeping it up by stealing the energy from his surroundings--including the energy needed by Wayne to be able to talk? If only he could survive long enough to somehow pass on the information so that his death would not be in vain.

As if to prove his point, his executioner added:

"Need to get to the point, Bats. Can't play all day long...really taxing us here. Not like with the others. Currently not _long for the flesh_ as they say. Or the bone. Brain. Guts. Boy, a human body's really got a lots of guts,” Wally pointed out. “Do you know how many meters of intestines there are in the human body, Bats?"

Bruce swallowed. "March Hare..."

"You're repeating yourself. Keep that up and others will know _you're_ the Hatter even without the playbill. Spoil the surprise." The March Hare giggled. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes...innards, guts. Quite a damned bit of them. All packed in there like sardines in a can. Slippery as little fishes, too. It's kind of gross, really. Icky stuff. Superman learned all about that recently, but I bet you already knew about guts and how much there are because you know everything, don't ya, Bats? Plus you like to play detective doctor. Proctologist, Oral specialist, Sexologist." He maneuvered West's body so that it sat fully on Jabberwocky's lap, letting the loosened denim slip down further, lightly rubbing the exposed fabric of his boxers against Bruce's zipper. He moaned, swallowing thickly, and confessed while expelling his hot breath over Bruce's face, "I wanted to be the doctor this time, though, like with that other Superman; but it's not our play time now. You'll have to wait your turn after Supes and J'onnzy...sorry." Wally gave Bruce's cheek a peck before hooding his eyes.

Time unfroze; yet Bruce still found himself unable to move. Apparently the March Hare was making sure his energy was still being siphoned off just enough to keep him from interfering.

"Bruce?" In the front seat, White Rabbit's voice sounded angry as he looked back and saw a wide awake Scarlet Speedster languidly straddling Jabberwocky's thighs in a wanton manner. "I thought you said your little whore would remain asleep?"

Jabberwocky wanted to warn him. Really, there was nothing he could do. He could only watch the horrific encounter play out as it may while an ignorant Kent mistakenly threatened with bodily harm one of the most powerful beings any Batman knew of.

"West," The Man of Steel warned, "if you attempt anything stupid like trying to run from us, I swear I'll fry both your legs to a crisp. Not like Bruce will mind your losing those."

"Supes?" Bolting into a stiff sitting position, the speedster's eyes locked on Jabberwocky's; green eyes reflected instinctual fear as he cringed at the sound of _Superman's_ ire. For a moment, a mere fraction of a second, Bruce dared to hope that Wally's long-ingrained dread of The Last Son of Krypton's displeasure would force his abused lover to retreat from West's consciousness; but then the panicked expression turned darker as the newer personality asserted itself. The speedster's lips opened into a parody of a smile, an expression only Jabberwocky was privy to.

Wayne's blood froze at his glimpse of The Flash's mind considering and discarding a myriad of revenge possibilities in a matter of seconds.

_Clark....get away..._

Kent wasn't a mind reader, though, so instead of fleeing, he snapped out, “Pull your pants up, West. You're disgusting me.”

'Supes.." The March Hare mouthed the nickname this time, silently relishing it, drawing out the syllables.

Taking it apart.

“Su.per.man.”

__Dear God..._ _ _Wally..._ __fight_ _ _it. You don't kill._ Jabberwocky tried to push his thoughts outward, somehow get through. Maybe he was heard, maybe not. It made no difference either way:

The March Hare was out for revenge.

"Hush, little Batman, don't say a word. Wally's sleeping in the Land of Nod." Wally's voice whispered into Bruce's ear, a warning index finger laid over his mouth. "Besides, I'm here to play your game with the others right now. Told you that already. You're getting senile, Bats. Not good in a superhero." He threw back his head while twisting around to face the front seat, and sang at just above a whisper, finishing with a macabre laugh only to repeat it. Next to Kent, J'onzz shuddered with realization as the March Hare let his psychic aura come through unhindered.

"Clark, that's--" The Martian again went utterly still in this musical chairs game of stolen kinetics. The whole world seemed to boil down to the possessed Wally West and a suddenly wary Lord Superman with Jabberwocky and Cheshire Cat left as helpless bystanders to a show now in progress.

  
  


_"Wally's sleeping, Wally's sleeping,_

_In Luthor's bed, his bloody bed._

_Mourning bells are ringing,_

_Superman is preening..._

_'Cause shot in head....Flash is dead."_

  
  


"What the hell's...." White Rabbit gasped as he realized. " _Oh, shit_....March Hare?"

He watched in horror as Wally's facial muscles pulled to form a pout. "Aw, Supes already knows the mystery game ending. That saves time, but there goes half the fun of playing Who Dunnit first."

Twin beams of red shot out of White Rabbit's eyes.

As if delighted by the fact that Clark had attacked first, the red head grinned. He commanded Wally's body to react at nearly full speed--a speed far faster than Superman's heat vision. Looking utterly unconcerned, he leisurely moved out of the way in a fraction the time necessary, taking Jabberwocky with him. Bruce found himself pulled out of the car door before the beams would have slammed into him in lieu of their intended target, who was no longer there. Still helpless, Jabberwocky was tossed a few yards distance before his very mortal body inexplicably decelerated so that when he actually met the pavement it was in slow motion: leaving Jabberwocky unharmed despite his paralysis. A pale Superman flew out of the Lexus even as the automobile kept moving down the road with J'onn trapped within. West was there in front of the Kryptonian before his hand fully left the door handle. The smile was still on Wally's face: large, friendly, and utterly in contrast to the insane hatred in the green eyes.

“Hi, Supes. Long time no see? Did you ever find a suitable replacement whipping boy?”

"Wally...we..."

His enemy interrupted with a snatch of song, preemptively drowning out any words of either apology or insult by Lord Superman:

“ _Bad boys, bad boys,_

_Watch'a gonna do?_

_Whatch'ya gonna do when I come for you?”_

  
  


The two fastest beings that Earth had ever been home to stared at each other: The March Hare with an easy-going smile, The White Rabbit with wariness.

“You were my hero. The first and the best of us all. I used to worship the air you flew in, Supes. For a long while there you actually were nice to me like you were with the others. Then, for reasons I could never fathom at the time, you went all biting at my ass like a rabid dog no matter how I tried to soothe your anger. Fat lot of good all that obeisance did me....though you did pitch in for a nice headstone: Bloodstone trim. Very apropos.” His eyes slitted. “I'll have to remember to return the favor after our little get-to-gether is over. What do you think of kryptonite for the base with pyrite for the lettering? Too much?"

""I--"

Yeah, discussing funeral plans is boring, and frankly I've had it with doing boring. You know what, Supes?" The March Hare happily interrupted while he fairly bounced in place as if a great idea had just occurred to him, "being virtually dead was sucky. Really, truly, utterly, _sucky_. Almost as sucky as being branded inferior in your forever disapproving eyes. I mean, at first there was nothing to _do_ while I was kind'a-sort'a _dead_ except admire the scenery. I can't say how many times I kept running through my mental collection of songs to keep from going stir crazy before I learned what to do with myself. Music kept me _alive, ya know?_ It was almost serendipity your punishing me with solitary confinement at the slightest thing or I'd never have had the chance to memorize so many tunes or get used to being bored for such long periods. Wanna hear one of my Top 20,000? It's really good. I thought of you every time I listened to it while locked up in my room. You know the instance...just before that League mission to Alturas when you told the others that I would be worse than useless there, and anyway was too busy pouting to join in the mission. _Three days, Supes!_ You went planet hopping with the others for three days and left me caged in my quarters with only enough food for two of them." He grabbed the reporter's shirt before Clark could stop him, fingers vibrating until they were buried past cloth and skin to well within the supposedly invulnerable chest muscles. “May I have this dance?” Now locked together, The March Hare sent both their bodies whirling around and around, singing another warped tune from his vast repertoire as he increased their circular motion.

_"I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare...I'm just a kid, I know that they_ _ don't _ _care..Tell me why did this happen to me?"_

He abruptly stopped the macabre merry-go-round, jerking the larger man closer as they came to an instant stop in order to demand from his captive, all pretense of fooling around gone. _"Tell me."_ Lord Superman brought his arm up to try to knock West unconscious. It barely made it a few inches before it froze.

"But we know why, Supes...we _know_ why," his former teammate growled. _"Baby, take my hand,"_ one hand disengaged from muscle and skin to grip Lord Superman's proffered wrist---repeating the action that he had inflicted upon Wayne by vibrating the joint vigorously until it snapped in slow motion. It didn't stop there, however, as the hand began to age at a fantastic rate until it was just mummified skin over arthritic bones. Even as White Rabbit cried out, Wally's still buried hand slid still further through Clark's body like the latter was made of soft butter; ghosting over various organs as if he was a picky grocery shopper deciding on which apple to choose.

"It's really painful for a speedster to go a whole day without food. My insides felt like one huge cramp...needles...jolts searing my insides for hours before I finally heard the click of you returning and unlocking my quarters. You're a reporter...you know how to express yourself well with words, Supes. I never had that gift of eloquence. So I'm going to have to show you just what it felt like." The speedster closed his eyes as he continued to sing. Energy crackled around them lifting both metas a few inches off of the ground. _"Don't fear the Reaper...we'll be able to fly...don't fear the Reaper....'Cause you're gonna die..."_

He clenched his hands, squeezing and sending bolts of Speed Force 'electricity' into harassed nerve endings.

The former Lord jerked and screamed in agony.

Green eyes took in Clark's shuddering, assessing it. He nodded. "Yep, that sounds about the right level of pain I was in when you finally came back. Feels the right bitch, huh?

Do you remember that day? You sauntered into my room and held out a freaking box while I lay helpless in a fetal position on my bed. Demanded I apologize for messing up earlier before you'd consent to feeding me with dog kibble a nugget at a time. I didn't think I could possibly feel worse after that Joker fiasco, but you actually managed it, Supes. I was in _pain_ and you didn't care because you were having too much fun at my expense. Not even when Bruce came in and kicked you out did you show one iota of concern for my health. But now it's different. I'm more powerful than your worst nightmare. You didn't answer me yet, Supes. I asked: Ain't payback a bitch?"

  
  


“Flash, stop it!”

* * *

.

_He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. ~Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil_

.

* * *

After Wally--no, not Wally--- _the March Hare_ \---left to _deal_ with Clark, Bruce found he could move again. He slowly stood up, wincing at the sounds of Wally playing cat-and-mouse with Superman. Further down the road, his peripheral vision caught sight of the Lexus coming to a stop. The Martian got out, but not to run or fly. Apparently, the Mad Hatter had also released control over J'onzz in order to concentrate fully on tormenting Kent. Unfortunately, J'onzz looked undecided on what to do with his freedom, neither taking to the sky nor coming to Clark's aid.

Clark...

Jabberwocky took his eyes away from the scene of torture going on just yards from where he stood. He considered running, but what good would that do? Also his conscience was bothering him. Although his relationship with The Man of Steel had steadily deteriorated ever since he'd let Clark in on Wally's worrisome power level, he was not about to stand by and watch the alien be murdered.

He needed a plan.

The March Hare had intimated that he couldn't remain long in possession of West's body. The reason that was--and more importantly-- _why_ March Hare would let that bit of information slip, Jabberwocky would contemplate later. Right now he needed to make use of it to try to save Kent's life. Bruce had to stall for time. _How long_ was the unknown factor, but once The March Hare was gone, he didn't doubt that Wally either leave White Rabbit and Cheshire Cat be or get them help.

Bruce would be beyond any such thing.

Jabberwocky visibly steeled his nerves and willed himself to move forward in order to confront the monster he had created.

It was time to reap what he'd sown.

Oh yes, Wayne was very aware that this mess was _his_ fault as he'd had a long time to contemplate what had happened over the years that The Flash had been a part of their organization; therefore, the consequences of his lover's descent into madness were _his_ alone to pay.

.

"Wa-” He cleared his throat, corrected himself. “ _March Hare_. Leave him alone. I told you before that your death was my idea. Clark had wanted nothing to do with it. If you need to take your hatred out on someone...then take it out on the one you _really_ want to torture!" Bruce hoped that his opponent overlooked the fact that Kent had progressively gotten into his role as Flash's disciplinarian with increasing relish as time went on. No, he needed March Hare centered on the one who had managed to hurt him more than even the alien had.

In an instant Wally was in front of him---leaving J'onzz to catch a gasping Kent before he hit the ground.

  
  


"You know I never could deny your special requests, Bats," The March Hare told him with an air of deadly seriousness. “What shall we play, today? I know...” Crackles of electricity arced around his body, engulfing green eyes with a yellowish light. Baring white teeth, he recited The Jabberwocky:

  
  


_"And as in uffish thought he stood,  
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,  
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,  
And burbled as it came!”_

  
  


Bruce felt a tingling sensation in his torso and glanced down to see fingers half buried in his abdomen. It was _not_ a comfortable sensation by any stretch of the imagination. Within seconds, Bruce figured he was going to wish it he'd kept his mouth shut.

The fingers slid unhindered through his flesh to rest on his throat.

How did the rest of the poem go?

  
  


_One, two! One, two! and through and through  
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!  
He left it dead, and with its head  
He went galumphing back._

  
  


Payback truly was a bitch.

No, it was worse than a bitch.

The intrusion slipped downwards again, stopping when the tips of vibrating fingers moved against Jabberwocky's chest: the area of the heart. Bruce immediately knew just how his ex-lover was going to die. Superman had starved and isolated The Flash, but _Batman_ _had broken Wally's heart_.

_An eye for an eye....a tooth for a tooth._ )

_And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?  
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!  
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"  
He chortled in his joy. _

.

Half way through the his mental recital of poem's conclusion, Bruce steeled himself for the coming stab of death. When after the recital was finished and he still remained pain free for yet another few seconds (which he knew would have been comparable to whole minutes for his ex-lover) The Dark Knight opened his eyes.

West had moved away from him. Whether from succumbing to shock or because Wally didn't want him to, Bruce hadn't even registered it when the invading fingers had left his body. His mind screamed at him to look down and check for damage, but he stayed still, waiting to see what would happen next. Maybe this was all part of Wally's game of revenge--to toy with him a little first?

The red head was wincing and holding his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He'd buried his face into his crossed arms. For a moment, Jabberwocky was sure the speedster was trying to hide the fact that he was weeping, but the mutterings he was giving contradicted the body language.

"Don't. Yes. However...Yeah. I could care less what he wants." He nodded as if getting advice from another. "Yes...make him live. Have to be alive to suffer. Only the living suffer pain. I can wait. I can..." He collapsed in a heap just as the Batmobile came roaring out from the east.

* * *

.

_In violence we forget who we are. ~Mary McCarthy_

.

* * *

Batman (the native one) leaped out of the car as if ejected, cape flaring behind him. He was glad he had thought to put a tracer on Jabberwocky--and that his duplicate had not already located it. When Question had called, Bruce had wasted no time in accessing the dimensional portal, getting back to his own Gotham and driving here.

To say the least, Bruce Wayne/Nighthawk was not very happy.

.

"Jabberwocky!" He stopped, taking in the scene of the plain clothed aliens J'onn J'onzz and Clark Kent together on one side of the road. The Martian was cradling a gasping and white faced Superman. If that wasn't enough to give one pause, on the other was his alter-world counterpart, holding an equally gasping Wally West who was wet faced and shaking from head to toe on the asphalt. Nighthawk considered it a lucky thing that between the hour, the state of the union and the disreputable reputation of Hub City, the highway was otherwise devoid of normal traffic; if it hadn't been they'd undoubtedly be swamped by both the media and the military.

"What happened?"

"The March Hare happened," Cheshire grimly informed him. "It managed to take over West's body as his own mind was rendered unconscious. It then went after White Rabbit and has severely injured him somehow after burying it's hands in Superman's body and mummifying his hand. It started to do something similar with Jabberwocky, but then suffered a kind of seizure and collapsed."

"Jabberwocky?" Nighthawk asked as he drew closer to his alternate.

"I'm okay...he didn't hurt me, but Wally is in pain." Nighthawk gave him a close look over. He knew himself well enough that in all likelihood Jabberwocky was lying through his teeth, but the other Bruce Wayne truly did not appear to be suffering from any physical harm at all. A curious thing considering how the other Batman's actions had undoubtedly aggravated The March Hare both in his own world and this one. If it was after revenge as The Lords claimed, why had it stopped? The Dark Knight noted the fact to contemplate on it later. Even though Jabberwocky appeared to be whole, there was clearly something wrong with Wally.

"Is the March Hare still...?"

Jabberwocky sighed. "I don't know."

Kneeling down, Nighthawk gently opened Wally's eyes. They were dark, but alert. "West?"

"B-Bats...I'm...not feeling good...seeing double."

Bruce half smiled. "That's because there are _two_ of me here."

"Oh....okay." Wally took a deeper breath. "You're not here to kill me, are you?"

"No."

"Or like...?"

Batman grimaced, having been informed of what had happened in The Watchtower since Wally had been 'rescued' from Lex Luthor. "No. I'm not going to do that either. Can you stand up?"

"Since I was a baby," Wally couldn't help spouting a joke.

Neither Batman looked amused by the flippancy.

"How about now."

"Always with the pop quizzes." Wally flipped over to brace his palms and the balls of his feet on the crumbly asphalt. He flexed his muscles and managed to stand up...only to waver and start to topple. "I think I'm going to get a less than stellar grade, teach. Can I try for the make-up test in a couple of minutes? Or better, a pass to the nurse's office?"

With some help from the two Batmen, Wally shakily managed to stay somewhat upright. He looked around. "Where are we?"

"A few miles outside Hub City," a Batman declared. Wally figured it was _his_ Batman, but he wasn't sure of anything especially as his skull felt rather worse for his impromptu nap.

"What do you remember?" the same Batman asked as his teammate rubbed his eyes, looking surprised to find rather a lot of wetness there.

"Being with Question. There was a message...on his laptop....I touched it, please hold the lecture, okay?, got shocked....then I woke up here. Did it rain?"

"That's all?"

"Basically. My head really hurts. It's like Grodd attempted to break dance in it." He looked down upon realizing he was feeling something else that wasn't right. Cool air was circulating against an area it shouldn't be. "Um...not to accuse anyone of anything, because you said you didn't and I trust _you_...well, more than most right now; but....why is my fly open?" Wally saw the other Batman's neck and face start to turn a shade redder while the one who had answered his question shot the other Batman a glare of disdain. So...Wally guessed he'd managed to tell the right Batmen from each other after all. "You know, I'd be really pissed off right now if my brain was functioning on all pissed-tons."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interestingly enough, the Wikipedia for The Mad Hatter states signs for mercury poisoning that reminds me of my Wally West II when he was at his most vulnerable. Hmmm... Now I'm wondering if one of the Lords was purposefully poisoning him to incite more compliant behavior. Urgh. It also seems to imply (to me, anyway) that the March Hare shared in the tea party purely for the sake of The Mad Hatter's emotional well being--again, reminding me of Wally wanting to 'help out' others.  
> Even more interesting was this:  
> "In the game American McGee's Alice the March Hare is portrayed as a victim of the Mad Hatter's insane experimentation."  
> Oh, and turns out the Cheshire Cat was philosophical as well as a bit of a trickster (the latter something I can really see The Martian being in a ("What me? You must be mistaken.") sort of way because he doesn't appear to be mischievous and therefore could probably get away with it.  
> Amazing what you can find in Wikipedia, huh? Weird, considering that my references to Wonderland started out as just some throw away lines that took root and blossomed.  
> Song are Like A Prayer, sung by Madonna; I'm Just a Kid by Simple Plan. What the March Hare sings to Lord Superman/White Rabbit is a parody of the tune Frere a Jacques. No idea who wrote that “Bad Boys” intro from the police 'documentary', but Jabberwocky poem is--of course--by Lewis Carroll.


	13. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can spend hours debating, worrying, fretting, praying;  
> but when it comes right down to it...  
> at some point a decision has to be made before someone else makes it for you:
> 
> Do you cross the Rubicon to confront your foe...or retreat?

* * *

_._

If you don't control your mind, someone else will. ~John Allston

_._

* * *

 

[Twenty minutes ago: Keystone City: LexCorp Main Headquarters--Midwest Division]

_ Formerly dulled eyes snapped open, betraying a spark of life. _

_-I was_ _so_ _-_ "I was so close!" Dee growled in annoyance.

Feeling something different about his surroundings, the dream manipultor found his limbs bound while over by his machines, Luthor wore a metal contraption over his bald skull: one replete with gleaming, metallic filaments covering his head like a silvery spiderweb.

It looked ridiculous....like some sort of bridal veil as devised by Brainiac.

Intent on inputting information into a small computer array) Luthor neither looked up at the outburst nor defend his new choice in accessories. "I'm sure you were."

_-What is...--_ "What is...?" _-You are-_ -"You are attempting to contain me." Dee realized then giggled. (Well, this _was_ a diverting and somewhat amusing development. Just what was his overconfident ally up to?)

"How astute; actually though, I have already shackled your abilities.” Lex indicated the computers and his head gear with a grand sweep of his arm and not a little pride. “This equipment was designed by Gorilla Grodd. I've since had it improved and have set it up while you were mentally...out. Now I no longer have to trust your word that you'll keep out of my head. In fact, you'll have to trust me that I won't kill you on a whim." Indeed, Luthor was feeling very smug and rather justifiably in his own opinion of his superiority. He'd outsmarted another enhanced human being. Proof again that hereditary _intelligence_ trumped some accidental gift of brawn visited upon the world's plebeians be they named Destiny or Superman.

_-How terrifying--_ "How terrifying," Dee menacingly chuckled. _-I suppose am--_ "I suppose am now your prisoner to torture?"

"Something like that. Try to attack me with your mind," Luthor warned as he finished the last connection and upped the power level, "and you'll experience a nasty shock."

_-Hold that--_ "Hold that thought."

* * *

 _-I'll give him a_ _ nasty _ _shock!-_

_-Kill him then. He is no longer needed.-_

_-I want to do something more horrible than what was done to the aide.-_

_-No...Lex Luthor is useful.-_

_-Hate him..him and his snotty, superior ways.-_

_-Immaterial. But he is expendable-_

_-Still useful...Humor him.-_

_-Why?...Pompous Asses!-_

_-He suits your plan, doesn't he? You can always kill him later.-_

_-Want him DEAD! Want_ _ you _ _dead!-_

_-SHUT! IT! You, Caretaker, you are amendable to this?_

_-Yes.-_

_-A_ _ test _ _then. Action as well as thoughts.-_

_-Very well.-_

_-No tricks?-_

_-No tricks.-_

_-_ _ No _ _tricks!-_

_-You overestimate my abilities. Where would I run?-_

_-You_ __ ran! _ _ _-_

_-And in doing so learned the futility of it. Again, oh, mighty Three, where would I run?-_

_-Tricky one!-_

_-Betrayal will be punished. He knows.-_

_-Hurt him...Hurt them all!-_

_-SHUT IT!...Agreement?_

_........_ _ AGREEMENT _ _?!-_

_-Stupid...yes, yes...agreement-_

_-Agreement?-_

_-You were right. I_ _ accept _ _ it _ _. Yet again I state,_ _ where _ _would I run?-_

_-Yes...do it, Caretaker. Show us what you learned.-_

_-He'll fail again. Can I punish him this time?-_

_-Perhaps. We'll see.-_

* * *

Dee jerked a little...as if he'd been poked, then spoke with a different lilt than Luthor had yet to hear from the madman's lips. The inflections reminded the billionaire of someone, but he couldn't think why.

_\--You need West--_ "You want West alive...docile. _-I can--_ "I can make him so."

"Likely so; however, as interesting as our partnership has been, I've decided that West and you are both too dangerous," Luthor told him. "It would be simpler to kill him...then you. Simpler and safer."

Lex had to admit that he was surprised John Dee did not seem terrified by the idea of being being outmaneuvered. Then again, the man was insane and still had yet to initiate the defense system Lex had placed around Dee's head by starting a mental attack. Perhaps the man had a bit more brains about him than Luthor credited him for...or it could be that Dee was merely going to try something later to extricate himself from his predicament.

Luthor smirked. He'd enjoy the look of astonishment and fear on Dee's face when he finally did attempt to control the advanced mind of Lex Luthor.

_-Simpler, yes--_ "Simpler, yes; profitable, no." _-When was--_ "When was Lex Luthor concerned about safety over profit?" _-Where is-_ -"Where is your ambition for power?" _-Power feels--_ "Power feels good." _-Power over--"_ Power over West makes you feel good." _-A dead--_ "A dead West is useless. You like feeling good, Luthor; West makes you feel very good." _-Take him--_ "Take him and force him to make you feel good _."_

"True." Luthor breathed deeply. What Doctor Destiny was insinuating held appeal as well as stating the facts: Luthor was not a coward who feared failure.

_Failure was the stepping stone to success. I am a mastermind who takes what I like. Dominating a meta like Wally West makes me feel good, and why shouldn't I desire that? Therefore, I desire to again control the speedster._

_"_ West will be my lapdog." Lex decided. He nodded, pleased with his decision. The meta would be his again.

- _So much_ \--"So much more than just that," Dee's manner became more oily, lewd, as he stared intensely at the billionaire. _-He'd be--_ "He'd be trained to heel at your command...a red-furred and flawlessly pale Welsh Springer Spaniel in all his naked glory running down and retrieving metas just for you. A hunting pet snatching Superman...Batman...anyone you wish. Would you like him to be mindlessly happily, 'wagging his tail, doing tricks for you while you pat his head in masterly approval? Or would you prefer watching his helpless tears fall, aware, yet unable to stop your desires? His responses would be yours to play with, because I would be there flipping the switch for you. You know you crave this, Lex...the satisfaction of controlling those who you once feared."

Luthor grinned, lost in the choreographed daydream Dee was painting. He could tell the speedster what a pleasing boy he was. Then break him all over again. Lick his tears. Relish his despair. Make Superman watch. Make _all_ the League watch their so-called conscience beg for whatever Luthor desired him to want; the helpless and despairing puppy piteously whining for a scrap of affection. How the mighty Founders would plead he show mercy for the boy. Even offer themselves up in exchange for the freedom of their loved one. He could torture them for years. The thoughts alone were enough to make a certain part of his crotch swell in anticipation. The blood tingled in his veins.

He wanted; he would have! Simple, clear fact.

He was Lex Luthor....who would deny him anything? Dee could get him anything.

"I like feeling in control. Dee, you are the key to getting what I want."

_-Yes, I am--_ "Yes...I am. _-Good boy-_ "Good boy." John Dee's face smiled unpleasantly from under the web then closed his eyes, silently relieved that Luthor was easy to manipulate.

(The Caretaker disliked this charade, but it had been necessary. He could only hope The Three bought it.)

….

Luthor blinked and rubbed his forehead to quell a minor twinge of pain.

What had he been thinking about?

Oh yes...

Everything was working out as planned. Soon, he'd have the chess pieces all in his possession. He was in control. Everything was as it should be.

Almost.

"Now that you are properly under restraint, Dr. Destiny, I can go collect full ownership of Mr. West. Don't worry, I'll let you play with him on occasion. You see, I've just had another brilliant idea--my superior mind being the reason I am in command while you are but a subordinate, Mr. Dee. You're going to help me train my pet. Think of yourself as....as my meta whisperer.”

Dee merely looked at him as if he wasn't there.

“This time Wally will not just be some spoiled lap dog lolling about all day in luxury...no, no...I mean to put the boy to work." Luthor chuckled, not bothered by his lackey's inattention. "My Welsh springer puppy, will be so eager to do his master's bidding."

With Wally West under Dr. Destiny's control and the dream master under his, nothing would stop Lex Luthor from becoming the ruler of the world. Why, he would conduct mandatory testing on all the metas and aliens Wally procured for him...find out how to transfer their powers into his own DNA. The name _Lex Luthor_ would be feared as a god surpassing all others. From the base of Earth, he would attack alien species and rape their culture. Find and assimilate exotic powers. Death would be conquered and hold no dominion over him. Lex Luthor, god of Earth, would never need to fear anything or desire something and lack it---because Lex Luthor would at last be in _control of everything_.

He sent the command to flush out West. The _boy_ had been allowed to dally about in his childish game of Hide  & Seek for long enough. It was getting late for dinner. He was hungry and Lex liked his meals hot: red hot and firm and ginger spiced. Patience was all well and good, but his patience was at an end. It was time Wally came back to his rightful place at Lex's feet.

It was time Flash came home.

* * *

_-Well? Did that meet your expectations? Did I pass?-_

_-It was a stunning display of manipulative power. I am pleased at your progress, Caretaker.-_

_-I am a fast learner when I want to be- he grovelled -Trust me now?-_

_-Partially. I do not forget betrayal easily.-_

_The Caretaker bowed, keeping his eyes on the 'leader'._

_-Then I will try harder to be worthy of your lessons.-_

_-Filthy suck up.-_

_-Kiddie show hack.-_

_-Shut it!-_

* * *

_._

_A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it. ~Jean de La Fontaine_

_._

* * *

[Current Time: The Batcave underneath Wayne Manor.]

"Flash, go watch over the computer."

Wally gave his rescuer a false smile of cheer. "I can do that from here, Bats...um..Nightowl...er...Nighthawk. Jeez, wouldn't it be easier to say _Batman1_ and _Batman-2nd Class_ or better yet something shorter?" (Wally privately disliked the temporary names--they sounded strange on his tongue. Besides, he'd always preferred names of one syllable. Brevity was a godsend; long names made simple introductions take forever. He could plan out his whole day in the time it took for some people to identify themselves.)

_"Hello, I am Miss Barberahella Butdamnitmylousyheritage_. See what I mean? Short names are the wave of the future."

Sadly, the reprimanding look Wally was getting from his Batman was not strange at all. Bats took things way too seriously. Wally knew he'd personally fall into an abyss of depression if he so much as _tried_ to be as grim as The Dark Knight every moment of the day.

Batman glared at him. The man was an expert at it.

"Okay, fine...dandy.” Wally threw up his hands in defeat. “Wayward Son the second edition will just go sit over there-- _way out in left field where the ball never goes_ \--and guard your big box of TRIX<R> sugar cereal from the wascally rabbit."

One half-second later a disgruntled West plopped down on the Bat computer chair and idly noted all its tantalizing buttons. (Not that Batman-- _his Batman_ \--had given him permission to so much as _breathe_ on his glorified calculator, mind; the speedster knew his rear had merely been posted there to make sure no one else tried to access it while Batman discussed events with the others.)

Wally sighed....once again The Flash was regulated to crowd control duty while the big guns discussed important matters around the King Arthur-style metal table Alfred had set up for their 'conference'. What really made it weird was that in this case he was the important matter under _discussion_ (read: chewing out).

Well, yeah, the fact that it was the _Lords_ that Batman was discussing him with did give a new angle on _odd_. It wasn't every day you saw something like two Batmen shooting jabs back and forth.

Which was kind of scary.

At least he was getting some entertainment from it all. Across the way, a quietly listening Question was serving the same function of 'guard dog' over a strange and equally gigantic apparatus that Wally recognized as the dimension-hopping machine that Lord Batman had invented. Around Vic's neck hung a small chunk of kryptonite. By his side was a flame thrower. Every once in awhile Lord Superman would glance in Sage's direction. The Question would raise an arm and waggle his fingers at the large alien in a impudent parody of _"hi, there!"_ to which Lord Superman would growl and try to close his fists in anger...only to grimace in pain from his destroyed hand.

_(Hmm.)_

The speedster fully intended to ask Vic about the slight limp he'd gained as well as the twin burn marks on his jacket: neither of which he'd remembered Vic sporting when he'd been a guest of the researcher earlier. Obviously, there was an interesting story there and Lord Superman had something to do with it. If Question's behavior and the state of his clothing was anything to go by, he felt White Rabbit probably deserved everything that had happened to him and more.

_(Well, the hand was probably a bit overkill, but that would likely heal with enough yellow sunlight treatments, wouldn't it?)_

It still made Wally sick that former superheroes let alone ones that bore the likeness of Superman could stoop to such barbaric behavior. The fact that his own friends depravity may have been influenced by Dee helped soothe the queasy feeling in his stomach a little bit. The frustration plastered on the Lord's face was therapeutic to witness as well, making Wally a little less upset about what had transpired while he'd been body-ousted by this March Hare everyone was so afraid of.

Okay, he wasn't at all happy about any of this and especially not with the part where apparently Supercreep had assaulted Question.

_(Again, that hand would surely heal. Clark Kent just wasn't going to be typing out any news articles anytime soon.)_

Not that this darker version of The Man of Steel was alone in being frustrated. His companions looked just as unhappy with the current turn in events. Once more, this fact did not trouble Wally at all. As far as he was concerned, the Lord Batman guy was vying with Lord Supes for the crown of Ultra Creepy. White Rabbit's willingness to use unnecessary violence scared him; Jabberwocky's obsession over his body and inclination to touch him whenever the Really Dark Knight felt disposed to try...it was wearing on his nerves. Wally inwardly conceded that this was probably why his Batman had ordered him to move to the computer chair. The computer was sufficiently far away from the table that Jabberwocky would not be able to keep molesting him.

However, he was not some fainting _Wall(y)flower_ in need of a pointy-eared chaperon. Okay, maybe he had fainted back there on the highway. Still....he could have handled the jerk!

_Dealt_ with the jerk. Dealt...not _handled_. *Bad imagery! Ew. Well, not really _'ew'_. Just....'ew' in general _'that guy's a pervert'_ sort of 'ew'. Even if Batperv looked like one of his no-longer-a-secret crushes it was still a classified 'ew' scenario.

Wally ran his fingers rapidly through his hair, feeling even more confused and out of sorts than ever. He was getting overwhelmed and scared. Even after finding friendly spirits... _relatively friendly spirits..._ in Vic and now Bats, nothing seemed to be improving; heck, everything kept getting worse!

Why did The Dark Deviant of Dimension Hopping have to look like Bruce?

Why would Lord Superman hate him so when Wally wasn't out to hurt _him_ in return?

Why had his Supes shown just as much intent on raping him as Lord Batman was?

For that matter, why had Luthor?

Well, yeah, Wally had heard the rumors that ol' Cue Ball had a thing for red hair (and Wally had really nice red hair if he did say so himself) but Luthor generally had always been trying to _do in_ the good guys--not simply _do_ them. Superman had never complained about Lex Luthor propositioning him despite the speculation over the internet.

Not that he'd ever said.

Wally considered another possibility:

Was there something _he_ was responsible for to incite such behavior?

Could it be some sort of latent speedster pheromones that had kicked into production? A Speed Force byproduct?

Accelerated aphrodisiacs?

"Am I sending out subliminal ' _for fast times try some Flash's ass_ ' signals?"

Fingers still firmly ensconced in his very mussed-up hair, Wally glanced up at the sudden silence from the direction of the table and froze, apprehension setting in that he _may_ _have said that last bit out loud_.

Evidence packet #1: Question was giving him a look that could be interpreted as either concern or amusement depending on one's predilection of the moment. Evidence packet #2: the Martian was staring steadfastly at the table top's edge trim as if it held the secret of Life, while over with Evidence packet #3: Lord Superman was wearing a nasty grin to go along with what was undoubtedly equally nasty thought, and....and _joy_....for bonus points Jabberwocky licked his lips as if he was going to answer him with an affirmation.

_(Crap.)_

Mortified, Wally whimpered and buried his reddened face behind crossed arms.

_(Just kill me now.)_

His head shot up again at the loud _smack_ of something striking metal.

Batman had walked over and slammed his palm on the table's surface close to where Lord Batman was.

"I explicitly told you to _watch and_ _not_ _contact him.”_ _Y_ ou knew he wouldn't understand or be able to handle your obsessive _behavior_ after being violated; yet you just _couldn't_ control yourself. If it were anyone else I'd put it down to a low I.Q. level. Considering the circumstances---that's improbable; though the fact that we share the same name and basic history sickens me. So tell me, _Jabberwocky_ , what in the seven hells of Hades possessed you to kidnap our Wayward Son?!"

Over at the computer, Wally coughed and held up an index finger to protest their arbitrary changing of his name. (Yeah, so what if _maybe 'Wallace'_ wasn't the most stirring of choices available in the  1001 Baby Names book, but his parents had chosen it and Wally saw no reason to be tagged with another one...with the exception of _'Flash' or 'Scarlet Speedster' or.._.)

Batman twisted enough to deliver a warning glare that---although this concerned him-- _-this did_ _not_ _concern him_. Whatever had fired up Wally's desire to comment instantly evaporated in the face of an angry Dark Knight no matter how slow he was. The finger moved to scratch the back of his scalp as if that was what Wally had intended all along. Fortunately for the sake of their current fragile state of peace, a ticked Batman was more than enough ' _scariness_ ' for Wally to want to tackle at this time.

However, apparently this was not so to another Batman.

This only affirmed Wally's view that Batman #2 was defective.

"You would have done the same, Nighthawk."

Batman returned his full, fiery attention onto his doppelganger. "Don't put so much stock in our similarities. I think events are proving that we are even more different than we first surmised."

Jabberwocky was not impressed and thus refused to back down.

(Wally revised his estimation of Batman #2's mental facilities down several notches.)

"Transplant the name _Diana_ for Wally and tell me again you would not have done the same."

Green eyes switched from one Dark Knight to the other. Forget a knife, if the tension in here got any thicker, Wally figured they'd need a diamond-blade chain saw to get to an exit door.

(Ooh....this _was_ turning nasty. Bats always did know how to fight dirty and now there were two of them trying to out Batman each other.)

Nighthawk leaned in so that his face was just inches away from Jabberwocky's, " _I_ would never push myself on Wonder Woman like some common stalker."

As the two Dark Knights tried to mentally deliver a killer punch via facial death threats, Flash silently cheered his Batman on because if Batman #1 didn't win this then Wally feared that at some point he was going to be doing something non-hero approved like delivering Flash punches at Batman #2's crotch area.

Purely in self defense.

"This is getting us nowhere," The Question interjected as their pissing contest seemed destined to continue on beyond all reason. Five sets of eyes swiveled to where Vic Sage was. Unfazed, he continued, "Luthor knows West is here. Might even be on his way now. The March Hare has controlled him already. What's to stop it returning?"

_(What?_

_Oh._

_Bugger._

_Points to the Man Without A Face for derailing two Batmen by pointing out that Flash was a ticking time bomb.)_

The Scarlet Speedster winced at the reminder of the little present from Lex Luthor that had been inserted into his spine with a bonus LexCorp logo tattooed over the incision because Luthor had claimed he didn't like the scar the operation had left. (Since neither procedure had been done with the nicety of anesthetic, it wasn't one of Wally's more pleasant memories.

Man, he loathed Luthor.

"The cave is shielded from GPS signals,” both Wayne's spoke at once.

_(Wow....Bat stereo. At least for once it was good news._

_Oh, now I've jinxed it.)_

"Possibly.” Question agreed, without backing down at all. “Yet before it _was_ shielding would have left a trail directing and ending here. Luthor will tear into the ground looking for West before he gives up. This March Hare won't even need drilling equipment. Time is short."

All but forgotten by his comrades, Wally paled further.

_(And...the round goes to Murphy as Hope takes a hit to the diaphragm and does a spectacular belly flop onto the mat where he lies gasping....)_

_Oh crappitycrappitycrap....trust Question to think of something that_ _The Fastest Man Alive_ _should have remembered immediately. Now he'd possibly led Luthor right to Batman's abode. Even if they didn't find the cave right away, Luthor would have a heyday claiming Bruce Wayne had been harboring a wanted criminal._ _Bruce'd be stuck in courts or even jail. Then there was the possibility that March Hare would take him over again and finish what he'd started. He was a total danger to everyone around him no matter what he did or where he went._

"I should leave." There, he'd said it; now for the backlash. (Heroes never did take self sacrifice from _others_ well and nobody was one to wish a monopoly on martyrdom tendencies like Batman--)

"Sit!" Nighthawk gestured at Flash to stay where he was by sharply raising his arm and bringing it down.

_(See? Bat Martyr complex was already booting up.)_

"But, Bats?!"

" _Don't_ move from that chair until I tell you," Nighthawk snapped the order.

Wally deflated in his seat, miserably aware that his Batman was being unreasonable and illogical and not very smart about this.

It was kind of heartwarming, really.

Only thing was that Wally was still afraid for their safety and he wasn't the only one...

"You must face the facts. This world is doomed," Cheshire Cat sighed in resignation. "We should leave it now. It is possible that the transfer to another dimension will confuse and delay March Hare's attempting another possession for a time. Here, your Wally is vulnerable to being taken at any moment."

Wally blinked. "Wait...what?"

"They were trying to take you home with them," Question told him.

"Finders, keepers; yeah, I got that impression, thanks," Wally rolled his eyes. He wasn't _that_ oblivious, thank you, and had had another question in mind.

"Why is everyone so sure The March Hare that's not-me means to destroy my Earth? Seemed to me he was only really pissed at Lord Supes. I mean, why come here at all when the ones he was ticked off at were someplace else?"

"It has shown itself to be hostile in a variety of dimensions, not just at we three," Cheshire Cat explained with his usual air of patience.

"As in...?" the speedster wanted to know.

In the pause that resulted, White Rabbit sniffed, "This Flash is as stupid as ours was." He gave Wally a condescending sneer. "How can _'It tried to kill us'_ not be clue enough for the police _detective_ that it must be destroyed?"

_He was stupid?_

_What the fuck is_ _wrong_ _with this bastard?_ Wally inwardly grumbled while deciding whether to stick out his tongue at pseudo-Superman or not _. He was trying to_ _help_ _here while Mr. Big Bureaucracy sat on his ass serving up insults!_

"I'm not a detective like Bats, I'm a scientist like...oh, never mind!” Frustrated, Wally silently counted to ten. Make that ten thousand. “The point is that for such a powerful being, it is sure taking it's time then," the speedster pointed out. "Maybe he's got better things to do than to devote his existence to half-rate, has-been dictators?" By the Patron Saint of Fast Food Joints, he was really getting his fill of _Lord_ Superman and his attitude. No wonder that other version of him had gone flying off the treadmill if he'd had to deal with the pompous blowhard on a daily basis.

Cheshire Cat quickly morphed into his dragon form and wrapped himself around his enraged team mate before he could launch himself at Flash--anger being a great energizer.

“I think the heat vision has linked into Lord Supey's brain, guys. What a hot head.”

Martain Manhunter #2 redoubled his efforts to keeping The White Rabbit from breaking free and turning Flash into a dead man in both realities. Nighthawk shot Wally a look that could have had “Not Helping” stamped on it in bold letters. Wally rolled his eyes, but gave a slight nod that he'd curb his tongue.

They were in the Batcave. He'd hate for it to get trashed in a fight.

"It is merely prolonging the agony, Wally" Jabberwocky sighed after they'd threatened the Kryptonian enough to get him to sit again. "It wants us to suffer."

"By coming here instead of over there where you three still were? What, did he leave a forwarding address and invites?" Wally asked in disbelief. "Even if he wanted so badly to re-arrange your organs, he could not have known you'd _follow_ him here. From what I gather, it's a pretty big multiverse out there. The chances of you all bumping into each other are really slim." He folded his arms, leaning back in the chair. "And it's _Mr. West_ to you, _Jackasswocky_." His Batman again frowned in disapproval. "Hey, I could have changed the end of it to something a _lot_ more descriptive," Wally growled.

The white lenses in the black cowl diminished in size by half, but Bruce let it slide. His team mate had the right to feel put out and Flash had been subjugated to more stress than usual this past year.

Jabberwocky opened his mouth before he realized he didn't know what answer to reply for this far more flippant version of his lover. Truth be told most of their hypotheses on The March Hare were just that...educated guesses. However, Jabberwocky wasn't sure he appreciated open sarcasm in the man....something he'd not had to put up with from his much meeker Wally. The moment they'd started Operation Downsize-The-Flash until the day when Wally had run off on him to _die_ at Luthor's hands, the speedster had never openly protested his ill treatment.

_This_ West had not been trained to be so compliant.

.

J'onn had only picked up traces of their original Wally in other dimensions. As far as they knew, he'd never returned to his home dimension. As for their meeting up here, that was because the Lords had come--not because his Wally had tailed them. Before talking with Nighthawk, they'd assumed the March Hare had wanted to consolidate his power before coming back to destroy his past tormentors. Hadn't Wally intimated as much before he went off to become a martyr?

_I hate you_ _ now _ _. I'll hate you_ _ then _ _. Even if I should somehow survive this...should somehow return...I'll hate you_ _ always _ _. Got that, master Great Detective?_

_ HATE. _

_ YOU. _

_ ALWAYS _ _!"_

Flash...the being once named Flash...once the man Wally West before he ascended into some sort of cosmic specter of vengeance...hated them; wanted them dead.

  
  


At times, Jabberwocky wished Wally had been more impulsive and not put it off this vendetta for so long....but that had been before he'd found the duplicate on this younger Earth.

“ _Fighting fire with fire,”_ had been Kent's idea; his stroke of genius. _“A War: West against West.”_

Of course Kent liked that...he didn't mind that in either outcome a Wally would lose: be it either the dark March Hare or the the untainted version who would surely be distressed at taking a life. Kent didn't care about Wally at all...only survival.

J'onn had agreed although with more reservations. The Martian hadn't grown as alarmingly callous as Kent had, but he also was imbued with the almost instinctual fear of losing his adoptive home.

“ _The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”_

.

“ _Or the one.”_

The Martian gave Jabberwocky a knowing look.

“ _Regrets are a luxury best delayed for the Future. We need you in the Present.”_

His orange eyes dimmed as he addressed the other worlders.

"We are getting off the point. This Wallace Rudolph West would be safer in our dimension. There, he would escape detection for a longer period of time until The March Hare locats him. A period during which he would have to train to fight and destroy The March Hare."

A rapid spluttering erupted from the direction of the West in question.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa, hold it _, Curly_!" Wally stood up, eyes narrowed. "What's this about _destroying_? I never said I'd commit some trans-dimensional form of _suicide_ based on the say so of The Three Stooges." The muffled sound of a snort came from the direction of The Question. Wally grinned back at his friend. "Hey, if they can arbitrarily assign idiotic names to each other and me, then it's tit for tat."

Vic nodded to indicate he had no problem with it. "Who's Moe?"

"Lord Supes has clearly got the worst temper and haircut," Wally proudly decided, "and I bet Jabberwocky's hiding frizzy hair under that cowl." He froze, sheepishly apologizing. "Sorry, my Bats. Frizzies wouldn't _dare_ visit your professional salon groomed head."

The Lord Manhunter blinked in mild confusion having no idea what the speedster was on about. If his recall of the Standard World English Dictionary was correct, the adjective had to do with the shape of some human follicle growths. He was not currently exhibiting such growths on his person. Nor was he a _person of unquestioning obedience_ or _a victim of a prank._

Was this another juvenile humor attempt by the speedster at a verbal attack?

"Curly? Wallace, you know my name is the same as your J'onn...and what is this ' _stooge'_ referencing?"

Knowing that Wally was ready and willing to go on into excruciating detail about American comedians past and present, Nighthawk felt a headache coming on.

He didn't need another one.

"Not important." Fortunately, the Martian took his words at face value and continued on without further demanding an explanation.

"The March Hare is insane. It is guided solely by hatred and revenge."

"You mean like 'Bloodthirsty' Wascally Wabbit sitting there?" Wally waved a disparaging hand at the scowling Lord Superman. "Seems to me _he's_ the prime poster boy for hatred and revenge stuff...and Daffy Bat over _there_ " he pointed in Jabberwocky's direction "could be arrested on lechery charges. Funny that nobody is saying we should destroy _them_ for being _Looney Tunes candidates_. In fact, _I'm_ the one with the wanted posters pasted around the world---and I'm innocent. Maybe this March Hare is also getting a bum rap?"

"You're hardly innocent," White Rabbit rather nastily pointed. “You inflicted major damage to your own Superman then reduced your Watchtower to a powerless capsule, "I wonder if you are not already irredeemably tainted by the March Hare?"

Nighthawk raised his hand.“Wally, calm down.”

Vibrating with agitation, Wally stood and fired back. Was his Batman starting to side with the intruders? Like hell he was going to play the silent bystander now.

"Hey--I was kind of _stressed out_ up there! Everyone was acting nuts and I didn't know anything about why! Plus, I had nothing to do with the Watchtower losing power!" He pounded the chair during his outburst, leaving a dent on the back edge. Wally looked down at it in surprise, chagrined to realize he'd lost control and let the infamous West family hot temper take over. Usually, he kept a better rein on it. Or tried to. It was harder to quell the instinct to _mouth off_ in self-defense when he was feeling so constantly jittery. His uniquely charged cellular structure was nearly always screaming that he run and never stop and now his fear-filled mind agreed with his biology. He wanted to move, run, do something to burn off _some_ of this bottled energy inside him. Lord BlowHard sitting there all smug and smarmy wasn't helping.

Batman was right. He needed to calm down. Go still. Think things through.

But he wanted to move!

.

"Flash!" His Batman hissed, making Wally jump at the Dark Knight's sudden appearance at his side. He laid a hand on the younger hero's shoulder and felt the muscles underneath vibrating nonstop from what Bruce mistook as pure nervousness. He squeezed it a little in a show of support; whispering, "Calm down. You're safe in this cave." Before Wally could say anything back in acknowledgment , he was whirling back to the table. "White Rabbit---stop needling him. He wasn't responsible for maiming you." Wally slowly sat down again. White Rabbit muttered under his breath, but nodded. Nighthawk gave them another glare for good measure before continuing.

"I was over there researching the March Hare,” Jabberwocky coldly reminded them. “Regardless of the fact that the Lords brought any misfortune on their selves, the evidence points to the March Hare---their Flash---having left a swath of destruction wherever it has gone. So far the devastation has been confined to dead worlds in the multiverse, but since coming here it has not only assaulted the Lords, but very likely aligned with Dr. Destiny to undermine global societies."

"Not all," Question interjected a correction. "Communities have been markedly hostile only in the developed nations that have a notable superhero population. In other areas, attitudes towards metas remain the same."

"That simply means that Dee is concentrating on the power bases.” Nighthawk told him.

"I don't get it," a once-again contrite Wally's brow furrowed as he quietly added, "Something still doesn't fit. If The March Hare is truly insane, then why...why would Dr. Destiny be helping him?"

"Maybe because Dee is also insane?" Cheshire Cat neutrally answered before White Rabbit could say it in a more aggressive manner.

"To the point of being suicidal?" Wally frowned, tugging a little on a lock of his hair. He shook his head, frustrated by his inability to piece this all together. He was a forensics detective--if only an apprentice in training...he should have figured it out by now.

Something about this wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it let alone explain why he felt they were erring. He closed his eyes, blocking out the others.

.

_What's wrong here? What are we missing?_

_Why was this March Hare, this judged Certified & Stamped Psychotic rendition of him that was supposedly so bent on revenge (or on just on one major temper tantrum) wasting time and not blowing up the Earth and the whole of the Sol System and moving on? I mean, the guy had been him and Flash: impatience kind of went with West territory._

_That was just one part of the puzzle. Another pile of pieces were the lightning creature at Central City and his possession by it, the surge of knowledge and power that had allowed him to escape from Luthor and later from Superman....Dee insisting that he was trying to protect Wally from....what?_

_ Beware Clark, J'onn, and Bruce. _

_Okay, that made some sense seeing most of his friends had gone crazy and the Lords wanted him for deeds of high execution that he wasn't agreeable to, but it was more than that. Something was_ _ wrong _ _. He knew it as another intangible fact, but the hidden details of_ _ why _ _he felt this eluded him._

_Then there was the whole thing with Dee exhorting him to go home. "Home was where the heart was," Uncle Barry used to say. To some extent for Wally that was the Watchtower, but even more so to him as both Wally West and Flash it meant The Twin Cities. Home was Keystone and Central Cities. That was where he lived. That's where the 'normal' people who depended on him as The Flash were._

_Home is where the heart is..._

_Home is where the heart is._

_-Wally Go Home-_

_-Go Home-_

_-Home-_

_ Home _ _is where the heart is._

* * *

"Home...where...the heart is."

"Wally?"

Wally opened his eyes, surprised to find himself on the floor covered with Question's trench coat and a Batcape under him subbing as a makeshift mattress. Not exactly PillowTop in quality on the last, but he supposed it was a tad more comfy than the bare floor would be.

A concerned Batman was feeling around his head and neck like some sort of phrenologist. Probably finding all sorts of interesting lumps considering all and everything.

Anyway...

How did he get down here?

"What?"

"You fainted,” was the terse reply. “Stay still until I finish checking for any injuries."

  
  


_(Fainted again?_

_This was getting embarrassing. Pretty soon they'd be calling him Wally the Fay Wray West: The Fastest Fainter Alive. To make that thought even more disturbing he could just see Gorilla Grodd auditioning for the part of the ridiculously amorous King Kong with a fetish for human company and smashing toy airplanes._

_Okay, that track of imagination was just too disturbing. Switch rails.)_

  
  


"Um....Mind my asking which Bats you are?"

(Because between a besotted Grodd and a touchy-feely Batman clone Wally wasn't totally sure which one he'd rather deal with: sure, Weird!Batman had the good looks, but Grodd had the intelligence to get that the word 'no' did in fact exist as part of the vocabulary.)

The Batman gave a slight smile--which was little more than a quirk at one side of his mouth. "The celibate one."

"Oh, good." Wally relaxed a bit. It was short lived as a moment later Lord Supersnark had to open his gob.

"How can we know it's not the March Hare returned?" White Rabbit edged towards the portal, obviously no longer a believer in 'woman, children, and weaker mortals' first. Question raised the kryptonite nugget, warning him back. Much as Sage wouldn't mind seeing the tyrannical alien leave the premises and let the portal gate hit him in the ass on the way out, he would keep to Batman's command to detain White Rabbit until told otherwise.

"Wally?" a Batman asked again.

_-Beware The Three!-_

The red head shuddered and everything went dark for a moment. He moaned as his vision returned.

"Leave me alone." An arm pushed Batman away, but it was not like it was a serious effort to get free and Wayne recovered his balance almost immediately, unharmed.

Cheshire Cat frowned. "I am detecting a different mind. Like a shadow overlaying..."

"I'm fine; still me," Wally breathed holding a hand to his head, "at least, I think so." The Martian remained skeptical.

"The March Hare would want us to believe that."

"Yeah, yeah. I bet you have an answer for everything. Look, you claim the other me is loopy," Wally began as he tried to get up only to be pushed back down again by a gauntlet covered hand. He acquiesced, because Batman really did look like he was worried about him. "Am _I_ acting loopy?" He sighed and groaned as their response to such an inquiry wouldn't take an Einstein. "Never mind. Don't answer that."

"He's ours," Question nodded.

Nighthawk agreed. "Wally...what did you see?"

(Wally narrowed an eye at his protector because, honestly, he'd been out of it for a moment and who knew if The Dark Knights had played musical chairs in the interim. Bats were half ninja even if they weren't speedsters.)

Probably still _his_ Bats as the hand bidding him stay put hadn't moved from to his chest and on to...other places.

“It's Nighthawk,” Question confirmed for him.

_(Good old, Vic.)_

"You know, we really need to give these two name tags." (Ooo... _Stern look....gotta be his Bats_.)

“What. Did. You. See?”

_(Geez, yeah, his Bats, alright.)_

"Nothing new. I was just trying to sort things out in my head. Then I heard Dee telling me to go home and to beware those three." Wally gave the ex-Lords a glare. “Although..” Frowning in thought, green eyes clouded with doubt. "No...that's not right. It _wasn't_ the same."

"What wasn't?" Jabberwocky asked.

"The voice. I mean it _was_ the same...yet it wasn't.”

Jabberwocky grimaced because that statement was rather less than informative. “Explain.”

In response, Wally held up one palm. “Talk to the hand.” Jabberwocky's mouth twisted to show his confusion over what he meant by that. Well, Wally supposed the insult was rather dated. Not that he cared if Jabberwocky was left adrift at see by what Wally chose to say. In fact the speedster was all set to ignore him, but his own Batman looked like he was in agreement on getting a more detailed explanation, so bowing to the inevitable, Wally sighed and held up both of his hands.

“It was like one voice, lets call it Righty,” he indicated his right hand “said one thing and another voice” he waved his left hand “Lefty, said another while trying really hard to sound like the first or Righty?” Wally stared at his two hands, switching their positions. “Or maybe it was the other way around? Or the same voice trying to sound different.” 'Lefty' curled into a hand-pantomine of a talking mouth. He shrugged. “I dunno. It was just mixed up, but the last voice...not the same. Sort of...like one was on an old party line like Grandma Flash used to talk about, but the last was on a separate line. Does that make sense?"

(It had been a separate voice. Yet again, a _fact_ to Wally that was based on nothing he could prove.)

The Question and Nighthawk traded meaningful glances which Wally hoped did not mean they thought him nuts.

"Were all the messages like that?" Vic asked.

"Why can't I get the simple questions?" Wally huffed. "You know me. I wasn't really paying all that much attention to it at the beginning. At first I thought it sounded like me...a digital recording of my voice, but then I figured it couldn't be as it wasn't talking like I do because I generally don't talk weirdness.”

He made a pouty face at their blank stares.

“You know what I mean. It...I could always recognize it when it spoke...but it...it was..." He shrugged again, tugging at his forelock. "It's too murky to remember exactly. Like trying to see something through a thick fog in a monster movie. Most of the time I was either out of it or really panicked." Glancing between his audience Wally glowered. So he wasn't the pinnacle of logical behavior. “Don't start. Don't anyone dare. It wasn't like I wanted to watch the Horror Marathon with Shayera. She insisted. I'm more into films featuring explosions, robots, and fast objects than teeth and gooey entrails.”

"Flash...concentrate." Nighthawk hated it when Flash got side tracked like this. It was one of the man's faults that never seemed to suffer improvement. "Did it sound like John Dee?"

"How should I know? It didn't sound like Dr. Destiny did, but then you said his alter ego was pretty different from his real self anyway. Not like I ever visited the nut job as himself, Bats. No reason to."

Wally had never made a habit of visiting Batman's Rogues in Arkham let alone a more obscure penitentiary like Strycker's; he had enough of a time dealing with his own 'problem children' over at Central's Ironside prison what between League work and daily patrols at his personal turf. Plus, Batman tended to get possessive over the right to deal with incarcerated villains he deemed too dangerous. Considering that Bruce Wayne didn't possess any super human powers other than his above average intellect, it was almost funny to watch Superman cave in to most of Batman's demands.

"It's Dee and the March Hare. If we don't prepare him to fight..." Lord Superman began; however, Wally interrupted him like the former hero hadn't spoken. (As with Lord Batman, these creeps didn't deserve his respect or politeness. He was so not going to feel guilty over being rude.)

"I'm going home."

Varied intensities of astonishment greeted that statement from all but The Question.

"You can't go there," Jabberwocky breathed out once his brain assimilated that this wasn't a joke. “It's the last place you should go.”

"Hey, I'm of legal age, guys. I'm going."

"Wally, you've suffered a fainting spell twice just now," Nighthawk added. "You said you blanked out at least once on the Watchtower and that's not counting the shock from Question's laptop."

"So I've been a bit harried of late. I'll get some shut-eye at some point and be right as rain. No biggie"

Nighthawk wasn't fooled. "You got sleep at Question's and in the car."

The speedster fumbled for an answer to that one as it was true...he'd gotten a fair amount of sleep lately. It wasn't that Wally dismissive about the 'spells' any less than his friends were....he just didn't know how to deal with them right now other than to simply accept them as they came and keep going.

That's was his motto: run forward, sideways, whatever, but keep going.

"If I faint again I swear I'll try to fall somewhere soft."

It's a trap--whether of Luthor, Dee, or the March Hare, it hardly matters," his Batman sounded pretty certain of this. Wally couldn't disagree. It wasn't like he hadn't fallen into traps a hundred times not to recognize one.

"I know it's a trap. But it's also where I have to go."

Up to now Jabberwocky had (to his mind) shown considerable restraint, but could contain himself no longer. "For Socrates's sake-- _why?"_

Grinning, Wally happily explained, "Because the voices in my head told me to."

Cheshire Cat grimaced. "We're too late...he's gone insane as well." Wally glowered at the Martian's half-expected deduction.

"Laugh it up, Green Boy," but it doesn't change the fact that I need to go back." He removed Batman's restraining hand in order to zip over to Question and looked him in the...uh...pseudo-derm _face_ before anyone could react. "Something is waiting for me there and it won't leave me alone until I deal with it, Vic. I'd rather get that done now rather than later."

When it was likely that more people would be hurt because of him.

"But you're too weak," Jabberwocky protested. "It will kill you.”

Wally shot him a ' _who asked you for_ _your_ _opinion_?' scowl of annoyance. One plus side to going to Central was that he'd be leaving Batjerk behind.

"No guarantee that would change either way. Besides, how would I possibly train for this? I'll take my chances," Wally bitingly retorted. The redhead returned his attention to Vic Sage. He didn't really need the man's okay, but he wanted it. Of all the ones here, Vic was the one most inclined to offer support without pushing; advise without ordering. Wally thought some of The Question's ideas were whacked when it came to global conspiracies, but he respected his opinion. "I can't explain. I know there's a trap of Luthor and Dee's...but there's something else too. I have to go home and it's not at some alien dimension or entombed under this rock. It may be the only place I'll get _at the truth_ as to what's been happening."

"He can't leave!" Jabberwocky growled.

"It would be inadvisable..." Cheshire readily concurred before Clark vehemently declared,

"You idiot! You're going to throw our only chance away!"

Wally heard the objections from the Lords. He ignored them.

"Go," a solemn Vic advised.

Nighthawk was silent, disappointment like a second cape hanging over his shoulders, but Bruce slipped an aural communicator into Wally's hand. The speedster placed it in his ear, making sure it was in snug. Knowing Bats, he figured it was designed to do more than it seemed, yet Wally decided to allow the Dark Knight his paranoia. If he didn't Bruce would be insisting on coming too and that would probably end in a bad way even though he'd have liked the Dark Knight's support. Wally knew he'd cave in to a demand to wait for Batman to tag along as a good part of him was scared to death to be facing Luthor again on the maniac's terms.

A quick, _thank you_ smile at Question, then at Batman. "I'll grab a quick snack from upstairs first and then be on my way--just in case. Luthor's menu plans for last meals suck compared to Alfred's cooking. Wish me luck!"

A red blur left the Bat Cave.

" _Why?_ " Jabberwocky breathed, "why allow him to go to his death?"

For a moment, Nighthawk contemplated the space where Flash had just been a moment before, his lips frozen in a thin line. "You would have failed to transform him into what he isn't. West _is_ a warrior...just not the kind you desire."

"The Trickster?" Vic asked in what was not wholly a question he needed someone else to answer. Sage knew all about the history of James Jesse as well as the other Rogues that plagued the Flash legacy.

"Yes."

“Trickster?” Jabberwocky could not place the name. It sounded vaguely familiar and like that a villain would choose, but the Lords had incarcerated or killed so many criminals of everything from murder to jaywalking. "Who?"

"A Flash rogue--mentally unstable without his medication.” Nighthawk explained as he hunched over a section of his computer. “No matter how many times James goes off the drugs and tries to kill Flash, Wally never hurts him more than what is necessary to stop him from killing anyone.” His eyes narrowed. “That's the difference between Flash and the Lords...he sees the people behind the fancy costumes. Vibrating a finger through their brains to lobotomize them into safe automatons wrapped in human flesh would never have occurred to him." Nighthawk placed a finger over a button as if expecting it to go off at any second.

Cheshire Cat hung his head, realizing the statement was true. The Justice Lords had depersonalized their adversaries to the point that they had no compunctions on treating them humanely or not. It was a guilt that the Martian knew he would carry within him for the rest of his life.

Jabberwocky said nothing. He recalled with painful clarity that in his grief over Wally he'd just nodded his concord when Green Lantern and Shayera had advocated killing all of the speedster's Rogues as a memorial to the fallen hero. Now that Nighthawk mentioned the Flash's villains, he remembered the names of each and how they'd been systematically terminated. At the time, Lord Batman hadn't considered them important beyond that they had at times given their Wally a hard workout in the Twin Cities.

Unsurprisingly, a bitter Lord Superman was not convinced of any wrongdoing on his part. "Compassion for scum only bred more of such ilk. Thanks to our methods we had nearly attained an end to the so-called Never-Ending Battle. Now criminals are showing up again at home while a mad lunatic threatens to destroy everything on boths sides, yet you let the solution slip through your fingers. Again your pathetic League morals condemn us all."

“We aren't condemned yet.” The button Nighthawk had been watching blinked red. He pressed it. His butler's voice filtered through the intercom sounding aggrieved.

"Master Bruce, did you authorize a raid on our pantry?"

"Let him eat anything he wants, Alfred."

"As you say, sir. But I will need to do some major grocery shopping tomorrow unless you plan on expanding your normal dining habits into the starvation category."

A droning noise filled the cave.

"Peripheral alarm," Nighthawk and Jabberwocky explained as one.

"Alfred?"

"Master Wallace already left to check it out, sir. He said you should stay put."

_ (Damn hyperactive speedsters.) _

Biting back a curse, Nighthawk hit the communication link for Wally's communicator.

"West?"

_"Bats, can't help but notice your new grounds-keeping crew has some mighty strange weeding tools in hand. Ray guns really aren't the best for taking out the odd dandelion patch from the lawn...makes for brown spots. Want me to serve them their pink slips?"_

"No." Nighthawk brought up some monitor screens. He zoomed on a dozen men wearing dark LexCorp uniforms and carrying weapons that could have been designed by S.T.A.R. Labs. "Can you evade their sight?"

"Lex..." White Rabbit hissed the hated name from between clenched teeth. "I can take him."

_"No--Bats is right. If Batman, Superman, and Question are witnessed causing a scene at the manor it could compromise Bruce Wayne. My problem...I'll take care of them."_

"Wally--"

_"Stay out of this, Bruce. You too, Vic. My adversaries. My city. MY problem."_

"Flash," Nighthawk began in a dry, reproving tone, "My property--in _my_ city?"

_"Really? Whoopsie, must have got turned around--big place you got here, Bats," Wally's cheery voice came back on a second later. "But at least they should find that the ice fishing is pretty good this time of year."_

_ (Brilliant.) _

"Where--?"

_"Nome, Alaska."_

(Brilliant like an exploding sun. Now he'd have to send someone out to pick them up before they froze to death.)

"West--"

_"Just kidding, Bats! Well, about the ice fishing. I dropped them off within easy trudging distance of a polar research station after, you know, checking for bears and chucking their weed whackers down a crevasse. Rest in the knowledge that their mercenary tootsies won't even get in danger of frostbite._

_Now I'm off. In fact, I'm already past Vancouver---make that the Sierra Nevadas...um...Great Salt Lake fading in the distance...Rockies always wonderful for a step climbing workout; man, it feels good to stretch my legs again and take in the sights! Sorry, Bats, Vic, but Gotham and Hub City just ain't the crown jewels of North America, ya know?"_ His voice got quietly serious. _"Midwest home stretch....You guys stay in the you-know-what and be ready to evacuate should things spiral downhill. I'm sure this little ear warmer has a 2-way open line as part of some cellular package deal, so you'll hear if things get past the Return Policy date. Don't forget to take the Batmobile through the magic portal, Bats! Major cool wheels there---hate to see that get destroyed. Um...crossed Kansas state line...commencing radio silence."_

The line went quiet save for the sound of regular breathing.

"He can't tell us what to do!" White Rabbit snarled, struggling to get up from his seat. Jabberwocky easily pushed him back down.

"Kent, you can barely stand. Regardless...those men Flash dealt with were just beaters. During a hunt, they go out and make noise in order to flush out their prey. Flash was right...they wanted us to react...draw Wally out and maybe have an excuse to arrest Wayne and search the manor."

Question walked up next to Nighthawk to watch a digital replay of the soldiers with a red blur removing two at a time.

"No," the Hub City investigator, disagreed. "Our Luthor knows Flash can run circles around his men. This? Mind games...make Wally run home knowing he's expected."

Nighthawk grunted, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on the computer keys. "Luthor must be confident his trap will both work and hold him. Flash is no easy prey."

"Not easy, but...probably an elaborate homecoming party planned. Government in his pocket. CADMUS. John Dee. Flash isn't stupid. You heard him."

It was a painful, yet undeniable truth--and neither contestant for the title of _world's greatest detective_ was one to hide from obvious facts:

West had carried a dozen men from New England to Alaska. That was over five round trips in all (while weighed down) in less than a minute. Both were well aware that even after that Wally could have traversed the one way trip from Alaska to Central City in mere seconds if he'd been so inclined. He hadn't; in fact, by the difference in the amounts of time taken, Flash must have been literally dragging his feet---a clear indication of how unsure the formerly optimistic Scarlet Speedster really was about his ability to win out over so many unknowns.

Wally was seriously worried he was going to fail them.

Question 'faced' the Dark Knight silently asking what he intended to do. When The Dark Knight said nothing, he posited, "Man's afraid....slowed down closer he got to home."

"I know," Nighthawk inhaled; straightening his back before turning to face the others he informed them, "That's why we're going to go crash Luthor's little gala."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I found some things of interest while researching some minor points for later. Go look up Welsh Springer Spaniels. Look at the pictures of red-headed ones. Read the descriptions on their personality. Wavy hair on a roundish head and squarish 'jaw', freckles on his nose; bouncy disposition...likes to run about. Loves children. Tell me that isn't Wally! And it's Welsh! Wallace=man from Wales! I gotta get Wally a puppy. If nothing else, for the reason it would drive GL and Bruce nuts having dog hair get all over their uniforms.


	14. The Valley Of Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the many copyrighted lyrics, this is technically not a song fic as the emphasis is on a character who was heavily influenced by music rather than a song being the inspiration for the story. At any rate, I'm giving credit where credit is due by acknowledging the name of the songs and the artist each time they come up. If I did miss one, please let me know so I can correct it. I own only the story plot and dialogue.
> 
> Minor warning: memory flashback where character will seem ooc by cursing away something fierce. This was intentional

_._

  
  


**Chapter 14: The Valley of Fear**.

_._

_In the middle of the night_   
_I go walking in my sleep,_   
_From the mountains of faith_   
_To a river so deep._   
_I must be looking for something,_   
_Something sacred I lost,_   
_But the river is wide_   
_And it's too hard to cross._

_And even though I know the river is wide,_   
_I walk down every evening and I stand on the shore;_   
_And try to cross to the opposite side_   
_So I can finally find out what I've been looking for._

_In the middle of the night_   
_I go walking in my sleep,_   
_Through the valley of fear_   
_To a river so deep;_   
_And I've been searching for something_   
_Taken out of my soul._   
_Something I would never lose._   
_Something somebody stole._

_I don't know why I go walking at night,_   
_But now I'm tired and I don't want to walk anymore._   
_I hope it doesn't take the rest of my life_   
_Until I find what it is that I've been looking for._

_In the middle of the night_   
_I go walking in my sleep,_   
_Through the jungle of doubt_   
_To a river so deep;_   
_I know I'm searching for something_   
_Something so undefined_   
_That it can only be seen_   
_By the eyes of the blind_   
_In the middle of the night._

_I'm not sure about a life after this_   
_(God knows I've never been a spiritual man.)_   
_Baptized by the fire I wade into the river_   
_That runs to the promised land._

_In the middle of the night_   
_I go walking in my sleep,_   
_Through the desert of truth_   
_To the river so deep._   
_We all end in the ocean,_   
_We all start in the streams,_   
_We're all carried along_   
_By the river of dreams_   
_In the middle of the night._

_\- Billy Joel: The River Of Dreams_

_._

* * *

_._

_"Sometimes in the middle of a brawl, I wonder if I'm going to flame out, like Barry did. Or if the odds'll be against me... If I'll panic at the wrong time... or my speed won't be enough." ~~The Flash #44_   
_._

* * *

_._

  
  


After leaving the presence of Alfred Pennyworth, Wally had taken a half second to contemplate the Wayne mansion's partially depleted food stores and down the last blueberry muffin. Next he' pulled out his ring and clothed himself in the raiment of The Flash, then he'd left the mansion to discover what had set off Batman's alarms.

Lots of possibilities came to mind, none of them good.

It had taken only a glance to appraise the situation and come up with the best plan for dealing with the problem. Freshly 'fueled up' and raring for some kind of action, Flash made short work of transporting the mercenaries that had threatened Bruce's home by placing them "on ice" (as he'd joked to the shivering soldiers) then headed towards the Kansas/Missouri border.

To his embarrassment, West couldn't have truthfully claimed to have been in any particular hurry to get there. It was that perceived failing in the bravery department that pushed him on. (Death was preferable to willingly disgracing The Flash legend by falling to cowardice.) Wally would take responsibility and see this through no matter the personal cost.

The Twin Cities towered before him, glistened in the mid morning sunlight with only the wide Missouri River separating the two pieces of individually-developed real estate: modern glass “white class” Central and old-brick “blue color” Keystone. Wally equally loved them both: to him they made two sides of a personality. It was a far brighter, nicer place to be than any other.

(Yes, every area had its bad elements and the Rogues were a part of that; plus it wasn't like he favored the Twin Cities during patrols in quite the same way that Bruce flagrantly favored Gotham; still, to Wally Central and Keystone would always be the warm, friendly place where his heart lay.)

Home.

“Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.”

The speedster breathed in the familiar smells of river water, asphalt, concrete and steel, brick dust and freshly-mowed lawns, trying to derive some comfort from the familiarity of it all. He'd been here so many times before, but not since his near fatal entrapment at LexCorp back East. Memories started to bubble up. Past times, good times, bad times.

_"I'm serious, Wally! When you're moving at super-speed, you're seeing the world in a way normal people never will. It's easy to have your concentration broken. Keep your focus. If you can do that you can do anything. You'll learn. I just wish I had more time to teach you." **_

"I wish you had too, Uncle Barry," Wally breathed out before he hurriedly pushed the memory away (it wouldn't do to get sidetracked by sentimentality) and concentrated on what he saw in the here and now just as his mentor had taught him.

Gathering his courage, Flash ran out onto the Missouri River, using it as his 'road' towards downtown rather than taking the freeway entrance like he usually did, patrolling first one side and then the other. It was his hope that doing something even a little different would throw his enemies off long enough for him to get a quick reconnoiter in.

Central City was the most likely place Luthor would go, so Wally kept most of his focus to that side. Lex did so disdain anything that smacked of blue collar and would avoid Keystone as the location for his trap.

At Unity Park he swerved ashore and started zipping through the downtown area that the Flash Museum resided in.

It was an alien feeling for the Midwesterner: this being _less than thrilled_ at the thought of running within the city limits of either Central City or Keystone, but Wally was here now and afraid or not he was committed to seeing his course of action through. Flash just wished he knew what that action entailed...other than foiling the bad guys and saving the day.

A criminal mastermind was somewhere out here in Flash's protectorate, waiting for him alongside a populace that the billionaire had poisoned with his lies. Lex Luthor very likely had a fail-safe plan brainstormed out, initiated, and executed for Wally's death or capture. He'd have the duped glad hand of everyone around him from the highest Federal official to the local street vendors-all wanting Luthor to deal with _the dangerous meta fugitive_ and put him away.

On his part, Flash had zilch but his relationship with speed and what wits God had blessed him with. Strategy was not the red head's strong point. He was lousy at chess. Sure, Barry had told him a few times that he could and did form strategies in his mind...they just weren't elaborate ones like Batman thought up. He, Barry said, tended to rely more on instinct and his supernatural speed to aid in the quick follow through once a hunch presented itself and that was not in itself bad...just different. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Heck, even Batman's plans occasionally fell flat and the Dark Knight just went with his gut reaction.

Wally was not totally convinced then or now that his uncle hadn't been just trying to make him feel better...that he should have played more chess against Dick Grayson and other strategy experts instead of 'run and bash it' video games even if he was a pro at those. However, what was, was and there was nothing to be done about it right now. For better or worse he had impulsively come 'home' at the insistence of a mortal enemy even though logic was berating him upside the cerebellum for being an idiot child in doing so. Everything beyond this moment would have to be just as much a matter of feelings as well as split-second devised and revised strategy.

What he wouldn't do for a game controller. That was if he could convince Luthor to settle this over a video station.

One day he should really try challenging Grodd to a game of Kong. Or vintage Pacman. There was something really satisfying about watching Pacman eat all those little dot things.

_Video games? Focus on the now, idiot!_

Flash was greatly missing Batman's calm and calculating presence. It was hard to feel optimistic about his chances alone against Luthor without League backup. Still, allowing Batman to come would have been to risk Bruce's getting killed and Wally couldn't stand to see that. Anyway, while there was life there was the spark of hope of that _'pure, dumb, West family_ _luck_ _pulling through'_ as Grandma Flash used to say.

(Well, Aunt Iris Allen West was the source for most of those quotes. He'd never actually known his grandmothers, but “Grandma Flash” just seemed like a more wisdom-dispensing incognito name to give outsiders than “my aunt used to say...”)

  
  


* * *

_._

.

Zipping through the city at high speed, The Flash had managed to avoid most of the populace as he scouted the area; though it was possible that several had managed to catch the red and yellow blur of photons marking his passage and would have reached for cellphones after he was gone. He also couldn't avoid creating hi-speed wind gusts and other molecular vibrations as he passed by. It didn't matter as Wally was certain that Luthor and Dee were already aware of his location thanks to the chip in his skeleton. His goal right now was just to patrol so fast that the GPS information was rendered useless as far as  _pinpoint accuracy_ until he was finished and came to a stop.

One of the things Wally noticed right away was that there were not nearly as many people out and about for this time of day. Spotting identical officious looking posters on many shop and municipality doors, he grabbed one and read it without breaking stride. They were short notices that downtown Central City was under martial law and under lock down to all but government employees until further notice. That explained why everyone he had seen so far were wearing suits.

No kids, no romantic couples, tourists and so forth...just ominous looking police and business-but-not-really suits.

Finding nothing noteworthy other than an abandoned newspaper stand's wares proclaiming Luthor's popularity and warning that The Flash might be coming their way (to which he'd taken the split second to draw devil horns on all the photographs of Lex), West had set a search pattern that spiraled steadily towards the heart of downtown. Once there, he consciously skirted the section where he'd once been smacked into the building and where The Entity had appeared (too creepy!) ending up just outside the deserted Flash Museum and near it's large statue of Barry Allen: his deceased uncle and predecessor to being The Flash.

_(No.)_

Dismayed by what he saw, Wally walked over to the famous landmark. Part of him ached to see that the museum had been boarded up, but that was half expected; _this_ was not.

The museum and the statue had been vandalized with graffiti words and symbols that were rather vicious in sentiment. Regardless of the resident's misconception about the character of Wally West, the historical edifice had been as much a monument to the exploits of Jay Garrick and Barry Allen's careers. These were men who had been bona-fide, clean-as-a-whistle heroes. For the Central City officials to have closed the museum down totally rather than just covering up or removing the offending Wally West portions of the exhibits stung him deeply; knowing his people now hated all their native metas because of him was like a stake through Wally's heart.

Flash made a point of directing his attention in any direction _not_ the statue or the museum, but kept getting drawn back to the sculpture and in particular to the boldest part of the vandalism.

He couldn't help it: this horrible disrespect bugged him.

“Okay, I'm here,” he muttered; “now what?”

Wally blinked as a bit of memory surfaced. At first he didn't pay attention to it. This spot was popular for anyone who loved The Flash. He'd stood on this very spot many times to honor his uncle's memory and so had a lot of pleasant and not so pleasant associations with the place, but one in particular of the latter kind now grabbed onto his mind like a bear trap.

.

* * *

  
  


_[Time: Six weeks after the Central City Incident. Place: The Flash Museum plaza overlooking the Missouri River]_

_._

_"I'm here. I'm here. You promised and I'm here," he breathed the words like a mantra...a prayer spoken night after night and so far in vain. That fruitlessness of it made him want to scream out in despair; but he didn't want anyone hearing him and interfering should this time prove to be_ _ the _ _time so he kept his voice low. "Please...I want to.." He felt a tear course down his cheek; ignored it. "I want to cross the river of dreams."_

_-"Flash?"-_

_Wally felt a wave of annoyance wash over him at the sound of the Martian's voice coming over his League communicator. He raised a hand to turn off the device; but wiped away the tear instead as the gesture of actually deactivating the earpiece would be wasted what with the alien being a stubborn telepathic_ _ bastard _ _. That didn't stop him conveying his feelings about the interruption. His reply to the concerned Founder was curt...deliberately nasty in tone. Being rude to The Martian Manhunter didn't bother Wally one bit, though, anymore than when he'd mouthed off to any of his would-be saviors. They deserved his ire for what they had done. It wasn't even as if it had been a singular incident, either. If he could have hurt them back with more than just words..._

_But no...they thought they knew best. They always thought they knew best for him._

_They didn't know_ _ squat _ _._

_"_ _ What _ _, J'onn?" He heard J'onzz sigh of weariness at his scathing response._

_Tough chocos._

_-"You've left the medical bay again."-_

_"Wow. Nothing gets past_ _ you _ _. Except me. Every night for two freaking weeks simple-minded Flash nimbly evades the all-seeing, all-mighty Manhunter. That must truly suck, huh, Marvin? What must Batman say?"_

_-"Flash, you're still not well."-_

_"I'm_ _ fine _ _. I keep telling everyone I'm_ _ fine _ _. Why doesn't everyone fucking believe mewhenIsayI'm_ _ fine_ _?"_

_-"You are not yourself."-_

_"Really? I thought that stinking battery of tests Fate put me through proved otherwise. Bats even signed all the forms in triplicate saying I'm me. Are you saying_ _ Batman _ _made a mistake? Careful, Marvin...or they might decide to lock you up too."_

_-"Regardless of the tests, your recent behavior is uncharacteristic and until-"-_

“ _Sorry to disappoint everyone, but I'm_ _me_ _, J'onn. 100% Wally West only with the cute little smiley wrapper missing. Live with it."_

_"-Your body and psyche went through something few non-telepaths have had to experience. I realize that you are angry..."-_

_"Those_ _ How To Pretend To Be Human _ _correspondence courses finally paid off, Marvin? You understand nothing; which is rather lousy of you_ _ J'onn _ _. Hey, maybe now that your such a master of Humanity you can pick another name rather than one that's a rip off of Stewart's."_

_-"...however, these unauthorized trips to Central City must cease."-_

_"It's my freaking town. I'm supposed to be protecting the freaking people in it and that's sort of hard to freaking_ _ do _ _when I'm stuck in the freaking Watchtower warding off my frigging friends' game of 20 Questions. Anyway, if I want to visit it every damned day what's it to you? Get out of my head."_

_-"Flash...we are trying to understand the source of this anger you are feeling, but we can not unless you share what you experienced while not in your body...why you are so upset at everything."-_

_"It's_ _ private _ _. I know that is a hard concept for your gossip group to swallow, but my life is not some freaking TV show for your enjoyment. What happened with the entity was my business so just fucking keep your sticky green fingers out of my thoughts and tell Batman that if I find one more of his tracking devices on me I'm going to shove it where the sun doesn't shine - which rather leaves a_ _ lot _ _of interesting places where a Dark Knight's concerned. That goes for Boy Scout, too; don't think I'm blind to him up there._

_'Look, up in the sky! It's a spook! It's a_ _reconnaissance_ _plane! No! Well...sort of; it's Super Snoop skulking behind cumulus clouds,_ _ spying _ _on me like he's afraid I'm going to drown myself in the lavatory whenever he blinks!'_

_Now all of you go away and pretend to be heroes someplace else. Your obnoxious presence is probably scaring-"_

_-"Flash, these nightly vigils of yours are pointless. The entity is gone."-_

“ _Of course...Holier-than-thou Batman was listening in on the sly. Great god of grandiloquent Gothamites, guys.... It's. Coming._ _Back_ _."_

_-"Flash, it's been weeks. It's not returning. Don't force us to..."-_

“ _Of course...now the Green Flashlight has to put his two construct cents in. What kept you, GL? Needed to change the AA batteries in your lantern first? Forgot the words to your daily spiel?_

_'In brightest day, in darkest night, no innocent speedster shall escape my sight. Let Flash - whose own business tend to might? - beware my dour Green Lantern's sound bite.'”_

“ _Wally, that's enough.”_

_"Enough? I'm the one whose had enough; enough of the pitying looks, the awkward pats on the back, the suppose-to-remain-unobserved-by-me eye rolls whenever the subject comes up. I hate it. I hate that you've all decided stuff for me like you hold some friggin crystal ball on the future."_

“ _It's gone.”_

_"FREAKING HELL-IT'S COMING BACK, DAMMIT!"_

_(He yanked out the ear piece and screamed into it again for them to leave him be just as a flare of color streaked by; he whirled around thinking it was Superman again come to fetch him back as always...only to catch a glimpse of Dr. Fate's outstretched hands before his world started to fade to black with Fate's voice ghosting in his ears._

_"Peace...Wallace. I'm here to help you forget..."_

  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


The memory abruptly ended.

“Shit.” Wally wanted to punch something.

Or someone.

Vic had been right: The League had erased certain of his memories in some desperate attempt to return their court jester to normal. Now Fate's manipulations were failing and the memories starting to return.

Flash grimaced, banishing the forgotten episode away for now. He couldn't afford the distraction before confronting Luthor, but he was going to have _words_ with someone about that if he got the chance.

Speaking of whom...

He impatiently tapped a foot to emphasis his displeasure, but nothing happened. There was nobody about. No sign of the military or of Lex Luthor crashing in with heavy artillery. No peasants bearing torches and pitchforks. No voices in his head offering either a 'good boy' or evil cackling.

The cowl got shoved part-way off so that he could breath a bit easier.  Curled fingers sifted through red hair as he considered what to do next.

(Besides taking a shower, because...damn, after that scuffle and cross-country trekking more than just his hair was feeling kind of gritty.)

The cowl was fitted back into place.

Everything was quiet.

Everything was still –- with the notable except of his racing heart and thoughts.

The months spent learning patience seemed a lifetime ago. That was then. This foreboding silence was _now_.

One second, two, three, four...

Bits of _now_ bled from one to the next, uncaring that...

It was unbearable.

  
  


* * *

..

_"The first law of Wally: Anything that takes longer to cook than it does to eat isn't worth fooling with. Thank heaven for the microwave oven. Without it, I'd have vaporized in a fireball of impatience years ago." ~~Wally West The Flash #69_

..

* * *

  
  


Fuck this! He could stand it no longer. It was continue to stand around and die of either ennui or an anxiety attack, or do something; and only one thing came to mind which would allow him to stay where he was.

Cheap pigment on crafted bronze.

Unsightly rouge marring smooth tan 'skin'.

An affront no matter how you looked at it.

Absently placing his thumb on one of the spray painted epithet maligning his Uncle's name, he rubbed at the offensive remark with super speed. Barry's memory didn't deserve...

An explosion under his hand hit his chest before he realized what it was; rocked him off his feet, the sudden flare and moving wave of heat gave him only a millisecond's warning.

Strobe lights and screaming sounds made thinking nigh impossible.

Sharp objects started pricking his skin.

  
  


* * *

.

.

Out of sheer instinct West's body spontaneously responded by vibrating to a particular frequency in order to avoid injury from flying shrapnel. Hands went up in a vain attempt to protect his throbbing ears as the concussive blasts went by, making the fabric of his clothes ripple despite his aura. When it was over the speedster found that he'd been slammed to the ground and left splayed upon the concrete walkway fifty feet from where he'd been; alive, but bruised.

Wally groaned, realizing that the statue had been rigged to detonate - probably using a specialized motion detector geared to respond to super human speed. As he'd slowed down before walking to the statue, he'd failed to trigger it and likely wouldn't have done so at all if he'd not tried to rub off the graffiti.

Rolling over as a prelude to getting to his feet brought tiny stabs of pain. Grimacing, he sat up and looked at the ground, thinking he'd merely been jabbed with more pieces of the obliterated statue. To his dismay, the resultant rubble that littered his surroundings were glittering with tiny metal points that were not of the same substance as that of the destroyed monument. These were pricking into him like so many burrs now that he was no longer vibrating. He gingerly plucked one out of his suit and held it up before his eyes, recognizing it's shape immediately.

_Shurikens: nasty things popularized by ninja movies._

These were made of a steel alloy and razor sharp, but also given a more spherical design similar to the Hispanic 'star' votive holders popularly sold during the Christmas season; only these were without so merry a sentiment behind them. A regular shuriken would have fallen flat and not hurt him once it was on the ground. The shape of these little monsters had obviously been designed to fix that deficiency. The one he held was also slightly wet with an iridescent oily sheen that Wally did not recognize although the odor seemed vaguely familiar. That he'd been pricked by the things was rather worrying, but his meta-enhanced defense system made him immune to a lot of poisons; maybe this was another one that his metabolism could neutralize before it damaged anything internal? All in all, Wally considered himself fortunate that his suit and natural speedster instinct had protected him from the initial barrage of the modified shurikens or he'd have been riddled with rather vicious buckshot and either severely mutilated or dying.

That the attack had been meant for him, West did not doubt. Luthor had plenty of opportunity to study Flash's physique and what its capabilities were if not why it was able to do the feats it did. He would have known that the same aura that protected West's skin from any number of airborne impurities while connected to the Speed Force would have stopped the shurikens from doing more than injuring the outer-most layers of his skin that did not get a strong blood supply. Nor was he immune to the effects of accelerated strobe lights or sound attacks. In order for the trap to work, The Flash would have had to have been moving at less than spectacular speeds - before the Speed Force 'shield' was brought into play. The aural and visual assault had managed that rather nicely.

_'Damn...I_ _ am _ _an idiot.'_

_Flash could visualize Batman giving a concurring nod of his head, because, really, what had he been thinking?_

The graffiti slighting Barry Allen's name - Wally now understood - had been placed there by Luthor and not the fickle, former supporters of The Flash. If he survived Luthor's schemes intact, he was going to look up the local college for classes in logical thinking. Clearly, he needed them for times like this when he couldn't rely on others to do that sort of _'if nowX = A, then futureY = B/screwed'_ kind of analysis for him.

As the speedster contemplated the ominous metal object carefully held between his fingers, the edges of Wally's vision started to go fuzzy and darken just a nano-second before the light dawned in his brain.

_'Oh shit-the oil!'_ He recognized the smell now...or at least what he associated it with:

_Paralysis._

_Mother of all freaking..._

_Luthor was so not getting on his buddy list._

(Wally felt along his upper body and hastily pulled out more of the shuriken, noting that many were stained with a little of his blood. It was, he knew, rather like closing the barn door after the horse had left, but he wanted the horrid things _off_.) As he'd feared before, his own relaxed weight had driven some of the edged blades past the barrier of his Flash suit and into his skin as he'd laid stunned from the blast. During that time, his instinctual reaction to vibrate had faded and that left him vulnerable to the sharp points. The shock of the attack had kept his body from registering all of the minuscule damage and ridding himself of the toxin right away-and the poison was indeed one designed with him in mind.

At any rate it was far too late to do anything about whatever it was; the poison was now thoroughly infilterating his cells. He imagined he could feel it coursing in his bloodstream like some oil slick tainting a once clean river. In fact...

Wally shoved his hood half off his head, blinked, then rubbed at his eyes in an effort to clear his vision and was not surprised when his peripheral sight remained dark while his central view became blurred. The effect was akin to trying to see through binoculars the lenses of which were smudged by grease. Luckily it wasn't getting any worse (he wasn't totally impaired): there was still discernible shades of light and shadow with a little bit of detail if he didn't try to see through the eye covers of his cowl. Apparently the drug had since been modified to create severe myopia along with disorientation, but not outright blindness.

_No doubt about it: a priority LexCorp creation redesigned and patented during his stay in Hotel Lex._

  
  


“Okay, Fastest Idiot Alive, _think!”_

  
  


The handicap was more than alarming, though not catastrophic. Even half blind he could still run if necessary - albeit at a much slower speed unless he wanted to risk cracking his skull into a wall, a vehicle, or running down a hapless pedestrian. It would not be an exaggeration to say that no one bar emergency services personnel were as intimately familiar with the layout and vectors within The Twin Cities like Flash; and though he wasn't eager to sprint through the area using only memory and shades of light as a guide, Wally took comfort that he wasn't yet totally helpless.

First things first: get off his butt.

Right.

Simple.

Standing tall and proud might not be feasible for awhile, but he managed to remain upright against a wave of vertigo; if only by the liberal application of sheer will power.

Okay, _not_ so simple. He felt like shit.

_Damn his fast metabolism!_ (Sure it was usually an asset, but this time it had innocently spread the toxin throughout his system like a same-day delivery service unknowingly delivering booby traps.) Even a fantastic sense of geographical memory wasn't going to help if he was too wobbly to walk effectively let alone run.

This toxin...whatever drug Luthor had painted on the shurikens was meant to keep him – literally – too unbalanced for his speed to be used at full advantage. However, considering that Luthor's access to all manner of harmful toxins ranging from the mildly nauseating to imminently lethal, it seemed odd that he had chosen this one for his trap. After all, the last time they'd seen each other, Luthor had threatened to blow Wally's head off. Why hadn't the bomb been more powerful? Or the drug outright lethal?

Oh crudcrudcrud...Luthor did want him alive _and_ _kicking_ _at that!_ The thought of suffering through such captivity again without the power he had been granted before sent the speedster's whole body into a shudder of revulsion. Wally breathed deeply in an effort to calm down. He wasn't a prisoner yet. Luthor was neither immortal nor invincible. Lex was just a man.

Yeah...just a man who happened to be a gazillionaire genius with very powerful allies. He was so screwed! Why hadn't he waited for Batman and Question, again?

_-Wally-_

Joy-joy-joy...he really should have expected Dee or whomever this was to make an appearance of some kind. The speedster raked his fingers through his already mussed hair. Or maybe this was that other voice again and possibly not Dee?

Or reverse that 'not'. Could just as easily be Dee with a multiple-personality disorder. The guy _was_ wacko. Maybe in addition he was split-personality whacked?

_Crap._

He really needed to find a way to keep these voices straight in his mind or preferably out of his head all together. If he didn't, they might eventually drive _him_ mad and sharing _anything_ a padded room with Dr. Destiny was not one of his life's goals.

Well, one thing was certain sure...he wasn't going down without first give Lex a lovely black and blue tattoo; he owed the creep that much.

_-Wally trust none...Protect-_

"Uh huh. Because _maintaining my well being is so high on your to-do list?"_ a beleagured Flash sarcastically pointed out even as he tried to concentrate on what he could hear and smell. The Missouri...was it that way? The river was wide whicht would be a plus for not running into buildings; plus he'd be able to tell if he suddenly hit solid ground and fix his direction accordingly. But running on the water would also provide no cover from pursuit or attacks.

_-Protect Wally as can-_

_"Right. Who are you? Because I'm pretty sure now you're not Classic John Dee as Classic Dee wouldn't care less if my ass was on fire. In fact, he'd happily up the thermostat while hiding the extinguisher. So are you the Diet or Caffeine-Free version?"_

_-Wally trust...Will know of soon...Almost Home-_

_"I think I've heard this bit before. Seeing as I'm not going anywhere just yet, what's wrong with our holding a little chat session now? You know, I always like get to know the neighbors...see who has the bigger TV set for game night and the best power tools to borrow?"_

_-Danger...The Three-_

_"The Three Stooges are back in Gotham with Bats,"_ Wally mentally jerked a thumb in the direction of the Northeastern coast. (He had his bearings now; orientated himself to face the riverbank, readying himself for his escape attempt.)

The voice seemed to hesitate and in that moment of quiet Wally realized that this was the longest and most comprehensible dialogue he'd yet to have with the exasperating vocalizations that was neither openly hostile or sounding crazy as a jaybird.

_-No-_

"No?"

_-The Three come-_

_Here?_

_Jabberwocky, Cheshire Cat, and White Rabbit had followed him to the Midwest? How did they arrive so quickly? Was the Watchtower and it's transporters up and running again? Was Bats with them? If so, was The Dark Knight in charge or their prisoner?_

Damn it! Bruce and Vic were the ones he'd thought would manage to survive. Now he really couldn't fail to defeat-

_Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute!_

“ _What do you mean... almost home?"_

  
  


* * *

_._

_There is a time to take counsel of your fears, and there is a time to never listen to any fear. ~George S. Patton_

_._

* * *

  
  


  
  


The throbbing sound heralding the arrival of multiple helicopters drowned out Wally's thoughts on what constituted 'home' if not Central or Keystone, as well as the voice's answer-if; indeed, it had even given him one.

Choppers....just wonderful. That ruled out the river cruise; way too open to those with a bird's eye view. So it was hide rather than flight as the best survival option until he was recovered enough to to fight.

_Nuts_.

Hiding was so not his style yet seemed to be all to frequently of late the course of action fate laid out for him.

On the bright side, it _had_ been a bit since he'd toured Central's newest attraction. Maybe he could pick up a souvenir on the way out?

Like Captain Cold's gun or Captain Boomerang's boomerangs or some other insanely dangerous item the museum curator had insisted be part of the collection.

Okay, maybe not the boomerangs because, yeah, he'd never really gotten the hang of how to keep those things from flying right back at him; but anything that packed a punch yet was less lethal than Trickster's snot gun would do.

That would be the day when he willingly picked up the Snot Gun.

Maybe they had a case of those licensed Flash plushy toys? Bet a few dozen lil' bean-filled speedsters hitting Lex in the face at the speed of sound would make his adversary think twice about messing with The Fastest Man Alive.

.

Wally tried again to move and only managed a drunken version of a slow jog in the direction of the museum's entrance.

The helicopters had that distinctive deep thrumming vibration unique to the military variety. It was probably either CADMUS or Luthor come to visit and –- all frivolity aside – he _really_ didn't want to be here to welcome them when he was impaired.

_'Wally is speed! Wally is speed! Fuck! C'mon...'_ The Scarlet Speedster mentally berated himself, trying to regain enough of a sense of balance to at least outrun the air machines. ' _Wally is speed! Get it in_ _gear_ _, Flash!'_

Despite his mental pep talk, his body refused to show any sign of a miraculous recovery let alone other mysterious meta-human abilities; thus, Wally ended up crouching down so that he had four points to stabilize himself on as the aircraft landed less than one-hundred feet away. It was all he could do not to end up on his rear from the buffeting winds generated by the helicopter blades.

Bleary green eyes registered multiple pillared dark 'smudges' with only a spot of beige at the lower edge of their heads emerge from the three bulkier black smudges that were the whirly birds. He counted six pillar smudges in all. After them alighted another one with a much larger pale, beige smudge where you would would expect a humanoid noggin to be. Wally figured the last was the bald Luthor surrounded by his helmeted shock troopers like he was trying to re-enact Darth Vader's arrival in the original Star Wars movie.

Lex was such the drama queen.

  
  


Wally grimaced when Lex's distinctive voice yelled over the descending noise level created by the helicopters as they finished powering down.

"Well, if it isn't my little lost Wally! At last my pet has returned home; albeit with his tail tucked between his legs! I was beginning to think you'd abandoned your owner. Such the bad puppy!"

If there was one truly useful idea that he'd managed to pluck from all the monotonous tomes of classical literature that his Aunt Iris had forced him to study during his summer vacations, Wally figured it was a line to be found in William Shakespeare's Othello:

_The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief._

Or to use more modern lingo:

_Never let them see you sweat._

It certainly applied here; Luthor would love to see him cower...so he wasn't going to.

  
  


"Lexie! Babe!" Flash put on his brightest, cheeriest smile as he struggled upright (despite the fact that what he really wanted to do was puke right then and there-preferably aiming any bile at his tormentor's undoubtedly expensive foot wear.) "Wow, I must say you've never looked better! The washed out look is _really_ you! We should do lunch, but I'll have to check with my secretary first to make sure I'm properly stocked up on digestive aid pills. How does sometime April 2130-ish sound?"

Luthor merely smiled coolly in return (or Wally imagined he did being as the speedster _really_ couldn't make out more than blotches of blended colors. He tried to listen for clues so as to keep his face oriented in the billionaire's general direction...pretend he could see well enough and was not the least bit scared.

Problem was Wally was as lousy at poker as he was at chess.

"So...the serum worked thanks to your inherent ineptitude. Poor boy, that look of stupidity in your eyes bespeaks that you can't see clearly...and your sense of balance is off. You can barely stand. It is fortunate for you that I feel honor bound to take care of my pet even though he's proving to be so difficult to stay housebroken."

"Yeah, well, forget it, I've already notified PETA that your guardianship skills suck." Wally huffed and gestured at his body. "This is nothing that a good pair of prescription glasses and some crutches won't fix and did it slip your mind, Lex? Abused animals _bite back_." He dropped down and made a dash at the 'Luthor smudge', arm held back to deliver a powerhouse blow. Knuckles connected rather solidly with Luthor's chin; the sheer force made the 'bald bad guy' smudge fall back. It was a rather satisfying feeling. Even the yell of pain was music to his ears...though it wasn't just Luthor who vocalized it:

_._

_"Fuck!"_ Wally waved his hand around like it was a flag during a rally. If Luthor could be said to possess a glass jaw then it was glass made of sea aquarium density! More likely Lex had lined his mandible with lead just to keep Superman from noticing and commenting on the lack of oral hygiene within.

Wally was almost certain he'd fractured a knuckle or two.

.

_"Ugh!"_ Luthor let out an involuntary groan of agony, but did manage to clamp down on the urge to hobble about in front of his employees until the fierce pain went away.

How ironic.

Luthor was brilliant – one of the most intelligent persons to have ever been born on the planet. Naturally he'd anticipated that Flash would attack him; he'd taken the extra precaution of wearing a prototype suit of armor made of the hardest, clearest, Acry-Lex alloy that LexCorp had developed in case his prey got a hit in at some point before the super speedster was subdued.

Studies showed that the Flash liked to strike out with his upper body while mostly using his legs for momentum: thus his main points of contact were hitting the torso and head of any opponent approximating his same height.

His engineers had constructed his suit accordingly with that in mind. (After all, what better incentive did they have to keep their employer safe than the fact that their paychecks as well as pensions depended on Luthor's well being?)

While not of Brainiac symbiotic quality, the protective gear had worked spectacularly. West's blur of a fist had just knocked him back a double step from the force of the blow. Luthor otherwise hadn't felt the impact. The armor had even absorbed most of the kinetic energy-otherwise he'd have surely been knocked flat to the ground. As it was he was still standing and unharmed.

_Almost._

Unfortunately, the (soon to be terminated) designers had _not_ taken into account that the jocular oaf would trod upon Lex's foot as he went past and that oversight had proven to be a painful one. Luthor was almost certain that he had a fractured metatarsal bone or two.

Lex was seeing red and it wasn't all caused by spandex.

.

"Take. Him. Down!"

The guard's fingers tightened on the triggers of their guns nearly in perfect unison. Those precious milliseconds between, however, were enough time for Flash to sense the individual motions of each hand as well as discern which 'click' preceded which. He weaved in and out, knocking down the 'smudges' like bowling pins, before they could get off a single shot; without having to touch the ground and re-orientate his sense of balance more than the once when he'd had to drastically change direction. Wally even spared a second's thought to gloat over this feat: wouldn't Bats be proud? It didn't hurt his rising optimism that his vision was rapidly starting to clear up. Central vision was almost restored to 20/20 and peripheral was lightening up nearly as quickly.

Had he been disparaging it but mere minutes ago?

Pfft!

_Hooray for his fast metabolism!_

  
  


Flash was just dispatching the last gun and was about to turn back and grab Luthor when another figure in civilian clothes jumped out from the closest helicopter and directly into his path.

Ah damn!

_Abort!_

Wally skidded to a stop fast enough to keep from barreling the newcomer over, yet not quickly enough to avoid needing to grip the man's shirt to keep them both upright; they still ended up gently colliding though Wally figured it could have been much worse. If he hadn't stopped in time, the guy would have been really hurt if not outright killed.

Instilled habit to save innocent bystanders executed and completed, it dawned on West that this late comer couldn't mean him well (being a companion of Luthor's) any more than Luthor or the rest of his entourage did. That being the case....he brought his other arm up to deliver a hay maker punch.

In doing so Wally had an extra second to eyeball the guy. He took in the slim form clothed in a plain looking brown shirt, pants, and loafers: which shouted that this was not a soldier or guard of any kind. Neither did his target exhibit the lab coat or the subtle demeanor of a scientist or doctor. In fact, the man wasn't holding so much as a letter opener in his hands let alone a weapon or a syringe.

All Wally knew for certain was that he couldn't recall seeing the man when he'd been incarcerated by Luthor.

The stranger was of middling height and had light brown/very dirty blond hair, unremarkable facial features and hooded lids that allowed only a hint of brown eyes. If this was truly some Lexcorp flunky/minion he had to be one of the plainest of goons Wally had ever seen. Totally unassuming...utterly lacking in aggression; he harbored no discernible expression, seemingly not aware that another human being was there in front of him, grabbing him by the front and ready to punch him in the face.

So why did Wally feel his hair suddenly standing on end?

_Flash was a creature of instinct - and instinct was grabbing him by the nut basket, screaming for him to run away from this man at mach speeds._

"Wallace Rudolph West."

The sound of his name coming from the man's dry lips made Wally involuntarily shiver. It was oddly familiar, yet alien. It was...

"Look, Mister Whomever-You-Are...I don't want to hurt you..."

(Not totally the truth, but what the hey.)

"You can't."

West raised an eyebrow at that. Maybe the guy had never seen a speedster in action?

"Come again?"

The lips quirked up to form a smile. Like something from a classical painting. (Meaning it was fake as well as _oily_.)

"Yes."

"Um..." Wally decided that _Weird Guy Done In Sepia_ was obviously _not_ one of Luthor's rocket scientists.

"Dear Wally..." West froze as his right cheek was gently stroked. One pass of a rough palm over exposed skin.

The contact made his balls crawl up.

Oh great, another male tactile admirer he could do without. What next?

"I've come to take you home..."

With that the man looked up and opened his eyes a little more.

Expressionless, dull eyes that made Wally swallow in nervousness. He'd seen such eyes before...on TV. More specifically, Halloween movie marathons featuring zombies. The kind that ate people's brains.

"...when you're ready," the zombie man added. "We have time yet."

_Okay, this is creepy as all hell. Who is this nutcase?_

"I think I'll take a rain check. See, mom always told me, 'Wally, don't ever accept a ride home with strangers'. Now, I wasn't exactly the most conscientious kid when it came to following mom's advice, but I'm going with her on this one."

"Regrettable.

Wally gave a disingenuous grin that was just destroyed by the fact that he was starting to tremble. "Always sad to disappoint a dedicated fan. I'm all sorts of distressed."

The man tilted his head a little as if considering what to do.

"As you desire, Wally." The zombie kept smiling as the distracted speedster was struck from behind. "As you desire."

He dispassionately watched as Flash crumbled unconscious to the ground.

* * *

  
  


_** ~~Excerpt from The Flash #64 (Barry Allen's advice to Wally West)_

  
  



	15. The Best of Plans Go Awry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knocked from the sky.  
> Captured and slimed.
> 
> Could things get any worse?
> 
> Never ask that question!

**Chapter 13: The Best Of Plans Go Awry  
**

* * *

.

_All our knowledge merely helps us to die a more painful death than animals that know nothing. ~Maurice Maeterlinck_

.

* * *

_._

_"My name is Wally West and I'm the Flash. Wearing these yellow boots is like a dream come true because I'm the fastest man alive and there's nothing, repeat nothing, I can't handle. Sound convincing? Good, because running into the heart of a black hole, I need all the moral support I can get." ~~The Flash #137_

.

* * *

.

[Time: Recent moments at Central City: Skies south of Springfield, Illinois]

There was the sound of an explosive blast followed by an aborted groan of pain; then for several long seconds labored breathing was the only thing heard over the speakers which Batman had attuned to the frequency of Flash's comm link.

Sitting in the pilot seat of his Batwing, Nighthawk grit his teeth and silently prayed the breathing noises didn't stop. If they did, it meant that he and the others (his counterpart Batman, Jabberwocky's team mate J'onn, and The Question) would arrive too late to save Flash.

In the rear co-pilot's seat, Jabberwocky's fingers were white on the armrests. "He's hurt and we don't know how bad." The older Wayne wanted to tell the pilot 'I told you letting him go was a mistake', but recriminations were pointless and it wasn't like any Batman would have easily been able to stop a determined speedster. (God, did he ever know _that_.) What mattered was getting to the Flash as fast as possible. If only Wally had asked Jabberwocky what he thought of this foolish rushing off alone to Central City in the first place, his mate wouldn't be in trouble now.

Nighthawk said nothing, his concentration on flying the Batwing via the quickest possible trajectory towards The Twin Cities while keeping tabs with the alternate Martian, J'onn/Cheshire Cat, who was watching out for hostile forces by flying alongside the Batwing's right flank. Privately, Nighthawk agreed with Jabberwocky that Flash's decision had been made in haste (what else was new for the Fastest Man Alive?); however, it _had_ been his decision and Flash was legally an adult (even if he seldom acted like one.) Bruce wasn't going to alternatively coddle and whip Flash like the Lords had tried to do; obviously that route was ill advised. That didn't mean he was happy about Wally's rushing into a trap, though. They should have waited and planned things first.

.

Both Batmen scowled when they heard Wally's groans of pain then dismay.

_Say something, Flash. What's happening over there?_

No explanation was forthcoming; however, the breathing sounds came faster as the increasing loud sounds of helicopters became apparent in the background.

.

_"Well, if it isn't my little lost Wally!"_

_._

If it weren't for the safety straps, Jabberwocky would have left his seat.

"Luthor!"

Indeed. The little comm unit Nighthawk had supplied Flash with was working perfectly; it was unmistakably Lex Luthor's smug voice they were hearing. Jabberwocky grit his teeth and reminded himself again not to ask if this out-dated version of his Batwing back home could go faster. If anyone other than the owner of the craft knew it's limitations it was an alter-universe Batman. Even so, he _needed_ it to go faster so he could ram his fist into Luthor's mouth while simultaneously castrating the bastard for daring to lay claim to _Jabberwocky's_ mate.

.

_"Lexie! Babe!...Wow, I must say you've never looked better! The washed out look is really you! We should do lunch, but I'll have to check with my secretary first. How does April 2130-ish sound?"_

_._

"Washed out? What did he mean by that?" Cheshire Cat asked.

"Something was wrong with his eyesight and possibly his legs,” Jabberwocky explained. “Flash should be striking with his fists; not just his mouth."

"Agreed," the ex-Lord frowned, trying to picture what was happening hundreds of miles to the west of them. "He's deliberately provoking Luthor." a worried Jabberwocky ground out from his position in the copilot's seat. Fast as the Batwing was, they were still a good fifteen minutes from the eastern border of Kansas. Wally was flirting with disaster and they were as yet too far away to help him. Once he had Wally safe in his own dimension (and what Nighthawk's opinion was on that was just too bad) he was going to keep the speedster under lock and key even if he had to find a pocket universe to safeguard the reckless man in.

Nighthawk grimaced, "He's trying to get Luthor to spill information."

"He could get himself killed,” was the returned opinion on that observation.

"Imagine that," Nighthawk coolly replied, reminding Jabberwocky that this world's Flash and his shared the same audacious foundational personality even if certain 'heroes' of The Justice Lord's dimension had tried their best to beat that out of their version of the late and lamented speedster. _Before, that is, they targeted Flash for assassination._

Jabberwocky bit back a growl; he had nothing to counter that accusation. “Just get us there before we lose him again.”

.

_"So...the serum worked thanks to your inherent ineptitude. Poor boy, that look of stupidity in your eyes bespeaks that you can't see clearly...and your sense of balance is off. You can barely stand. It is fortunate for you that I feel honor bound to take care of my pet even though he's proving to be so much trouble."_

_"Yeah, well, forget it, I've already notified PETA that your guardianship skills suck...This is nothing that a good pair of prescription glasses and some crutches won't fix. Fortunately for you I've already canceled out of the LexCorp Health and Vision Care plan so I won't be the one submitting a claim...You, however-fuck!_

_Ugh!..Take. Him. Down!"_

_._

Jabberwocky cursed. "Blind, disabled; he's in trouble."

  
  


There was a warning beep at the cockpit. Nighthawk noted a change in his instrumentation. Half a dozen objects were closing in fast...as fast as the Batwing. "So are we. Bogies at 10 o'clock."

Cheshire Cat's telepathic voice affirmed it. "There are CADMUS jet fighters flying in from the west. Very fast and maneuverable. It would appear that Luthor doesn't want anyone uninvited to his little party. _Victor Sage, you might want to brace for a potentially bumpy ride._ "

Ah yes....the other member of this rescue mission.

The lips of both Batmen formed a tiny, infinitesimal smirk.

.

"Very funny," The Question mumbled to himself at Cheshire Cat's warning. Like he had been anything _besides_ 'braced' since leaving Gotham City. Crammed into the Batwing's hold (at his own insistence as unlike that self-obsessed coward White Rabbit, _Sage_ _had_ been adamant about not being left behind.)

The Question sighed; _quietly_ , but with no less melodrama. It was a good thing he wasn't claustrophobic although he _was_ currently ruing the fact that he'd been _able_ to contort his body to fit in what was jokingly called 'storage space' for this flying batarang of a death trap...while Jabberwocky was too bulky to accomplish such a feat and had thus been granted one of the _good_ seats complete with a view and elbow room. It had been either traveling with the others this way or being carried and trusting the Martian not to drop him _accidentally_ somewhere along the way.

The Question didn't trust aliens.

Actually, he didn't much trust anybody.

_'There's more damned trunk space in a sub-compact.'_ _ the faceless man groused. _

_Which was true enough at least as far as the latest prototype releases that Vic had been able to download regarding tiny automobiles; however, V_ _i_ ic knew it wasn't like The Batman used his 'personal aerial logo' overly much for jobs generally better suited for a good pick-up truck.

(Bruce as yet denied it, but Vic recognized schematics for a modified 'Bat' Chevy when he saw one.)

Oh great...his nose was starting to itch. Why did his nose always start to itch when he couldn't reach it?

_'I swear,'_ _ the private detective muttered, _ _'it's a conspiracy.'_

.

  
  


_"Wally"_

_"Look, Mister Whomever-You-Are...I don't want to hurt you..."_

The Batmen inhaled in unison, attention brought back from The Question's physical discomfort to Wally's rather more dire situation even as they prepared for a dogfight that left their own lives on the line.

__"You can't"_ _

__"Come again?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__"Um..."_ _

__"Dearest Wally...I've come to take you Home... when you're ready."_ _

__"I think I'll take a raincheck."_ _

__"Regrettable."_ _

__"Now I'm all distressed."_ _

__"As you desire, Wally...as you desire."_ _

There was a grunt of pain...then just the sound of labored breathing and an amused chuckle.

.

Cheshire Cat went translucent, banked and morphed, taking out an enemy plane with ease by simply denying the enemy the use of some crucial engine components. He let the orphaned parts fall to earth, disregarding the faltering jet with its confused and frantic operators. "I know that voice."

"So do I," Nighthawk pulled up and fired at another of the jets trying to take them down, "and he was mouthing what _sounded_ like nonsense."

The Martian tuned out the the swear words emanating from Victor Sage's mind as the Batwing made another sudden swerve to avoid counter fire.

"I doubt it was just nonsense." Nighthawk deadpanned.

The alien mused on Dee's words and concurred with Batman. "He's implying this is not the first time he's come for Wally to take him 'home' and though he's not pushing, Mr. West is going to regret denying him." J'onzz's eyes shadowed in confusion as he added, "I may be amiss in my understanding of the human language in this case, but I find the reference to 'home' strangely ominous."

Nighthawk gave an almost imperceptible nod, part of his mind never veering from the ongoing battle. He'd reached the same conclusion. "Agreed. I don't like it."

“Nighthawk...” Jabberwocky breathed. He had stiffened in his seat at the unknown voice coming from the speaker; a sick feeling churning his stomach. "Taking someone _home_ is also used as a euphemism for death. Could his goal be pushing Wally into committing suicide?"

"Last obstacle is down. We are now free and clear," J'onn announced as he sent the final CADMUS jet down in flames by phasing through and tearing out it's starboard engine. (A miscalculation on his part that; J'onzz hated fire and had barely escaped getting burned.) The thoughts were barely relayed to the others when the the Batwing was hit by a streak of green energy. A second blast immediately struck Cheshire Cat. There was the sound of a fierce yell and something more corporeal struck their left wing, sending energy crackles over that entire section of the plane and causing the engine to explode.

"We are under attack," J'onzz unnecessarily declared in their minds as Nighthawk checked his outside monitors, "Stewart and Hol."

Nighthawk surveyed the information coming from his instruments. It didn't look good.

“Understood.”

"The Green Lantern and Shayera?" Jabberwocky hissed as his counterpart struggled to keep the Batwing from copying the Cadmus jets in making a straight dive into the ground. "I thought they would be with your Superman..." He frowned, realization quickly hitting. "We were expected. Luthor's had Dee call in reinforcements."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know."

The Batwing was made to take abuse, but being a pinata for both Oa's energy source and charged Nth metal was asking a bit much of even high-end Wayne Tech.

"Engine's out...steering is impaired. Time to bail," Bruce informed Jabberwocky as he clicked off the safety cover of the Eject button. "I hope you're feeling up to a jog. Looks like we're going to have to fight our way to Flash from the ground." He privately worried that if Dee could control John Stewart and Shayera Hol so thoroughly, why didn't he just suggest Cheshire Cat dive into an active volcano and the Batwing fly straight into a mountainside or one of the Great Lakes? It wasn't like his own J'onn had proven immune to a psychic takeover.

Nighthawk hated unsolved mysteries.

Bruce hit the cargo release at the same time he pushed Eject. Vic was going to dislike this, but nobody had forced him to come along and though he'd probably curse Batman's name, being evicted now was better than being immolated in a metal coffin.

"J'onn, catch Vic on your way down; preferably before he loses his lunch.  Try not to let him get killed either."

 

He reached into his utility belt, twisting in the air to counter Shayera's attack.

* * *

_._

_"Sift through the anxieties. Find the one. The one we can hurt him with." ~~Spin #239_

_._

* * *

[Current Time: Central City inside the closed up Flash Museum]

.

.

"Ithurts!Ithurts!Ithurts!Ithurts!Ithurts!Makeitstop!"

_-shhh...am so sorry...shh...can't protect from this-sorry..too close...can'tstaydanger!...can't..but maybe...yes..deeper go_ _ deeper _ _...Delta...The River of Dreams... Wally..remember...run silent, run deep...The Delta...-_

_._

_._

It was a gorgeous day.

Not a bomb-boasting boomerang in the sky, not a megalomaniac manta in the ocean, not a trickster trading tacky trinkets for unwilling cash donations.

Gorgeous, _stunner_ of a day.

He was in Tahiti, his body reclined comfortably on sun-heated sand while listening to the regular pounding of surf against beach like the thumping of an alien heartbeat. Surrounding him were an assortment of food and drink bearing swim suit models of every race of humanity: each one more gorgeous than the last and all feeding him and petting him like he was the most desirable man in the world

\---and paying particular attention to his erotic zones.

There was nothing for it but to bask in the warmth of the sun and their loving regard as they cooed over his prominent muscles, his jeweled eyes, his silky hair, spattering of freckles, the bulge growing in his red speedo...

He was beloved by them just for the fact he was there and was who he was and the feelings were mutual because they were beautiful too and thought he was beautiful and everything was just...beautiful.

_Paradise._

Wally was lulled by the knowledge that it (meaning the entire place) was not _real_ so he didn't have to worry about stepping over a moral line or getting all tongue-tied and discombobulated should someone start a real seduction play for his bod. Nobody was going to try because on Tahiti Beach nobody was really looking to get laid. That wasn't the goal.

This beach was a dream construct of his own devising: one of many carefully envisioned scenes where his mind could rest and take a sort of mini-vacation from the stress of being a superhero and a speedster surrounded by _slow pokes in jeopardy_ what often seemed like 24/7.

_Tahiti Paradise II_ was a nice, _safe_ , fantasy where no one got hurt because, really, it was only him here amidst a bunch of imaginary people and you couldn't very well offend _yourself_ , could you? At least not without trying really hard at it and why would he do that?

It was a bit odd that his second favorite wet dream scenario seemed a bit more vibrant than usual, but Wally figured he was either someplace his psyche considered totally safe or he'd died and gone to heaven and God (or the gods...he'd always been rather confused on that point ever since meeting Diana) was not only pleased with him, but not nearly as uptight as John Stewart was. (GL was always on his case about spending too much mental energy thinking up puerile male fantasies.) Wally had tried several times to explain to his military-trained friend that a higher metabolism not only energized his mobility, it also powered up his hormone levels _. All_ of the little chemical suckers including the hush-hush variety you didn't talk to family about unless you wanted to remain _grounded_ until you were old enough to be someone's grandpa. Honestly, he was as yet a very young man whose sex drive was still in high gear (as opposed to GL's who was now over the age of 25 and whose libido had since shifted into low gear...) and so...and _so_ \---

Well, _that_ explanation had not gone over very well with Mr. Uptight even though he'd backed it up with biology facts hurriedly gleaned from medical journals and a sworn vow that he _hadn't actually touched_ Shayera's _personal_ attributes _purposefully_ _like_ that time they'd fallen together in a heap when the Justice League Javelin's stability had gone wonky and he hadn't _meant_ to imply that GL was over the hill and...

..and dwelling on _Wally's-Hyper-Imagination-Is-The-Root-Of-All-Evil believing John_ was making his nice dream world fade.

_ Damn. Even when John was nowhere around the guy had this uncanny ability to shut him down. _

_"Wallace?"_

_'Damnation Level II & Crud, J'onn was waiting on line two. Might as well have had cold water tossed on me.'_

Sure enough, his arousal faded to half mast even as the last images of tropical sun and sand disappeared entirely into a misty darkness. Wasn't that just the way it always seemed to go when he was _really_ relaxing?

Wally sighed and steeled himself for dealing with real life. What was it they wanted of him this time? Monitor duty? Crowd control? Rescuing Booster Gold from some feral dust bunnies that were attracted to overblown egos?

"Yeah, J'onn?" ' _Wow..I sound wiped. Must have been a heck of a mission...or a party. I love a good party...lots of activity happening around me; not so boring as waiting about.'_

_ Parties are good...mostly. It was arguably better dealing with a hangover than getting your butt handed to you on a platter by some smarmy villain. _

_"I have been trying to establish contact for several seconds. Your mental pattern blipped out before I could fully establish a link with you. I was beginning to fear you had fallen into a deep coma, but then I caught snatches of your dream and your pattern was back. You_ _ are _ _fully cognizant of me now, Wallace?"_

"Um...getting there." Wally moaned, wishing he could go back to said dream. (Bowing to reality was not only lacking as much fun as his cavorting with imaginary playmates, but he'd woken to a bit of pain.) "Just so you know...your timing is lousy..and what you maybe saw doesn't go beyond us, okay?" He winced as his muscles started to ache in earnest. "Got a little bit of a headache...kind of sore here and there. Any idea how come? Please tell me I didn't try to drink Ralph under the table again. He cheats, you know? Darn elastic stomach can hold entire kegs."

(Drinking contests between the Elastic Man and the Man With A Hyper-metabolism were known to be epic as it was even money on who would win. Although the winner was often Batman who had at some point banned the events and all alcohol from The Watchtower: both Ralph and Wally would end up with extended monitor duty and toilet cleaning privileges.)

_"You were struck from behind with an armored fist and captured by Lex Luthor. I hypothesize his men were able to deliver some damage to your person before I got to you. It would explain the two fractured ribs and muscle tears. You also have a mild concussion."_

The events at the museum's entrance came rushing back, though not in an alarming way as his body (other than acknowledging the aches and bruises were real) still felt way too apathetic to bother sending stronger pain signals all the way up to his equally disinclined-to-hear-it brain for proper cataloging.

"Oh. Thanks for the help then," Wally smiled at the thought that J'onzz not only had rescued him from Luthor and his goons, but also was still acting like one of the good guys. Now he had Martian Manhunter as well as Batman and The Question for support if he needed it, "Nice to have you watching my back."

_"Indeed, Wallace, though I am watching over considerably more than just your back. I have been endeavoring to make you comfortable as you heal."_

"Great..great...glad to know you're still on the side of Goodness and Light and not gone all Sithly. So...where am I? Feels weird."

Every part of him save for around the important bits of his face felt like it was bathing in warm jello. It was definitely not a sensation he was accustomed to...but not bad. Kind of nice, actually...like one of those expensive body spa baths he'd stumbled upon once. ( _Literally_ stumbled onto and _in_ , really, after Captain Cold had turned the ground into an impromptu ice rink and he'd gone hurtling through drywall and into a formerly sterile herbal mud bath probably waiting for someone who made far more money in a day than he saw in a year. Embarrassing moment from a savior-of-the-day's perspective, but on the plus side it _had_ done wonders for his muscles after they'd had taking such a beating beforehand.

Anyway, all his aches were receding. He could easily fall back into slumber like this. Maybe take up where he'd left off on _Tahiti Paradise II_. They'd been about to serve a round of iced mochas and the only thing better than virtual iced mochas were real ones, but J'onn hadn't offered him any of those---which was kind of inconsiderate of him, but the guy had saved his keester so Wally would let the oversight slide for now.

Maybe he should really wake up and take stock of where he was?

Nah. J'onn would rouse him to full consciousness if there was dire trouble.

_"You are safe with me."_

"Fine an dandy, J'onn, but can you be a teensy more specific, geography wise? I always like to visualize the longitude and latitude in relationship to the nearest fast food joint. You know, I _am_ the main reason the McDonagald's franchise chain can make those ' _billions served'_ claims. Got to do my part and help the local economy."

(Something perverse told Wally that he was not going to want that question answered, but it was out of his mouth and J'onn did not sound stressed or worried. How bad could things be? He was warm and comfy and still not ready to face the world. Maybe in another five minutes? Relative time.)

_"Presently, Wallace. I must first notify our god of your changed state of awareness. He was most concerned for you."_

"Sure...um...huh?" Wally did a mental double take before chuckling to himself, "Wow, sorry, J'onn, for a second there I thought you said 'our god' instead of 'our doc' or nurse or something like that."

_"Hush, Wallace. Lord-master, your property is waking now. He was merely deeply into his...wet...dream."_

"What the hell?" Okay, that was....that was totally 180-degrees from fine and dandy!

Wally's eyes sprung open in surprise at the Martian's tactless words, only to discover something of more immediate priority.

_'Whoa...I don't think we are in Kansas anymore, Toto.'_

Unless someone had poured a gazillion gallons of jello juice into the Missouri River damn system and then busted said system creating a tsunami flood of Biblical...scratch that....Someone-Left-The-Lid-Off-The-Giant-Turbo Bender-Splatter Kitchen Disaster Marathon Week sized proportions.

This was honestly...and not even...because supposing...so how..?

I mean _seriously?!_

He was covered in some sort of murky minty-green solution the consistency of molasses. It clung to his skin tenaciously, staying on him and not paying the least bit of attention to the law (of gravity) by flowing onto the floor when he attempted to swipe it off one arm.

Wait a second...he wasn't just covered in lime-molasses goo-he was _floating_ in it? Moving his legs confirmed that he couldn't feel anything solid under his feet. Was he submerged in a tank of the stuff? There _was_ light filtering in from all around and he could see vague images from afar that looked like parts of the Flash Museum exhibits. That meant it was a container made of a transparent material. But there didn't seem to be a normal reflection of light off a surface so no glass or equivalent wall that he could try to vibrate through and have shatter.

A giant zip bag filled with goop? That sounded like another crazy scheme of one of his Flash Rogues. Had Luthor teamed up with The Trickster? Hera's hairpins---talk about your Odd Couple.

_"Wally, dude,"_ _his higher brain_ chastised his self awareness for being a dumbass, _"you have to get out of the mystery goop like pronto or you're going to drown?"_

Oh.

Right.

Breathing and the necessity thereof.

He started frantically reaching for something that might be an exit (or be made to be one with the application of a little super speed demolition work.)

_"Please calm yourself, Wallace. You are valuable property and should avoid getting damaged further."_

_ Calm? _

__Calm?!_ _

"J'onn? For God's sake, J'onn! Take-a-moment-to-stop-being-so-unperturbed-and-help-me not die!"

He started to thrash more wildly, hyper aware that precious seconds were slipping by.

Why wasn't J'onn doing something heroic like he usually did?

Drowned in green goo....not exactly a fate he'd envisioned as his final curtain call after getting hit by a lightning bolt.

Hardly a classy way to go.

_He was going to die. Die-die-die-die—dead—die----!_

Immediately, the goo he was in solidified around him, efficiently stilling his movements like a fly frozen in amber. Instinct made Wally's eyes automatically shut tight as goop descended down his lids. Soon his nose and mouth were covered. Unable to breathe and already oxygen-starved from his terrified frenzy, voluntary muscles soon went lax as his arteries shunted what oxygen-carrying blood remained. This was prioritized to the most vital organs by order of a brain now shifted into high-emergency mode. In the span of less than a second Wally West had been rendered effectively paralyzed and blind. Lungs used to getting what they needed screamed to release carbon dioxide and receive fresh air. As more seconds ticked by Wally knew he was in imminent danger of passing out...never to awaken...and there was nothing he could do to save himself or the others.

It was only now when his brain was forced to calm down to conserve what little supplies it had left that it dawned on him that he'd been talking and breathing while in the goo before he'd gone and majorly spazzed. In retrospect, there must have been a bubble of air trapped around his face like a breathing mask. Fat lot of good that realization did him now. Another victim of Drowner's Syndrome: panic over survival.

  
  


Dumbass, indeed.

  
  


_"Ah, dear. Wally, you really shouldn't fight with the Martian. He is only trying to help you as you asked."_

_ 'Luthor? I'm dead and Hades sounds like Luthor?' _

Man, being dead was truly going to suck.

  
  


_"You are neither deceased nor will you die until I wish it. Open your eyes. The Martian will not harm you."_

Wally thought he'd do no such thing as God and Batman only knew what kind of damage that goo would wreck if it got into his eyes. Besides to and very much of which it was _freaking_ _Luthor_ so any advice from that quarter couldn't possibly be trustworthy.

Trust or not, the goo retreated until he again felt air around his face; so that probably meant the hypothesized Air Bubble of Life he'd failed to register earlier was back over his mug. He immediately opened his mouth to suck in (hopefully) precious oxygen, grateful to be able to draw breath again.

Well, he wasn't chomping on goo so far.

Feeling a bit better if no less wary, Wally next cracked open one eye. When nothing ominous happened to his eyeball, he cautiously blinked. There was fear the bubble over his face would leak and let goo drip down, but to his relief it stayed secure. The gel was not more than an inch away from his mouth and nostrils, though; and wasn't that a bit disconcerting?

Still...

He was alive and breathing.

Panic now mostly gone, Wally wanted nothing more than to punch Luthor's lights out. Unfortunately the strange goop still surrounded him and it had proven it could react surprisingly fast. Not speedster-style fast, but with so little way to go and no way to slow it down, it seemed _he_ was the one who was going to lose a race with it.

How demoralizing: The Fastest Man Alive effectively put on time-out by lime gelatin. Living-possibly even sentient-lime gelatin.

Jello was no longer one of his potential dessert options at the cafeteria, _that_ was for sure.

Maybe with the exception of lemon?

Lemon not only tasted good but had the added bonus of freaking John out.

Definitely not lime though. Lime was _banned_ from the menu.

.

Wally pushed his new-founded unease towards lime-flavored dessert offerings away by concentrating instead on being angry at his adversary and the warped status of his friend who now seemed to think _Lex Luthor_ was right up there with Zeus and Elvis.

Subtle, cool-under-pressure expressions of his anger rather than flying off the handle.

  
  


Like Batman was when in a tight spot: unflappable.

  
  


  
  


* * *

"Luthor, you _sonofabitch!_ Where are you?! What did you do to J'onn?! Where's the top of my uniform?! What the hell is this gunk I'm in?! If it dyes skin I am so suing your ass for vandalizing my summer tan with some puke color of a...a color!"

  
  


(Okay, not so unflappable; but heck, in all fairness when had The Dark Knight ever been dumped in automated green goo? It was a totally flappable situation. In fact, using a scale of one to ten of flappiness, dealing with goo of any ordinary kind was surely worth seven flaps.

He'd watched Ghostbusters on TV.

Supernatural goo was at least a ten.)

  
  


Luthor raised an eyebrow at the complaint. "Tan? You've _always_ had a fair complexion," he drawled without hiding his amusement. "Even before you spent this last summer inside LexCorp."

"And don't I know it! The weeks I spent getting that exact shade of pale peachiness to perfection, wiped out by your rampant thoughtlessness. Sure, red and green are complementary on the color wheel, but it's months too soon to go out looking like a Christmas banner flying by. I'm pissed and you'll be seeing my lawyer as soon as I can locate an unbiased one whose previous clients I haven't sent to jail."

"Still lacking that spark bespeaking of a higher intelligence, I see," Luthor mused aloud with faked indifference. He folded his arms and regarded the speedster with the relaxed indulgence of one who held all the reins in one sure hand.

“My spark plugs are working just fine.” Wally growled. “You might possess more chrome on the hood, waxy build-up, and the fuzzy dice, but this little speedster owns the dashboard complete with the FM Stereo and bobbing hula girl.”

“Debatable, but the hot rod has been putting in too many miles without checking in for his daily tune up. It's past due for scheduled maintenance, flushing of old fluids, injections of fresh ones, and a detailing of its body work. Not to worry...I can fix all of that for you.”

“Well, Mr. Big Bucks, aren't you just the tallest hog at the trough? If you think I'm goin' to play knick knock with you again you're missin' more under your hat than just hair.”

“Those must be local colloqualisms. How colorful.”

 

“Colorful is going to be the matching binocular eye smudges I'm goin' to give you as an early Christmas present. You do know what a Christmas present is, don't you? It's those annual black rocks that show up in your sock drawer every winter. The ones that resemble your soul. In fact when you die and go to Hell, I bet Old Scratch is going to be thinking it's his Christmas because your soul probably holds enough charcoal to keep the fires burning down there for a few eons. I bet just banning you from the States would net the country more low carbon fuel credits than the rest of the international community combined; toxin levels would drop lower than an ant with trick knees. Why, I bet--”

“You do realize that your stalling for a cavalry that isn't coming?”

.

.

How Lex had missed this game of random word play; it was so different from the way the rest of the League conversed:

Batman used dialogue like chess pieces to enact intricate strategies.

Green Lantern traded concise rebuffs like sword parries.

The Martian gave pithy sermons, and loft speeches were the heralds before cavalry charges for Superman and Wonder Woman.

Did the hawk woman even know how to do more than just plain squawk?

Ah well, he categorized her utterances as too animalistic to bother trifling with.

Truly, as a whole the League's utterances seldom ranged beyond the realm of tedious, though he certainly paid attention to Superman (based on some fond, childhood force of habit) and Batman (out of the same wary regard you'd grant a rabid fox.)

West's conversational style?

Now there was a practitioner of abstractionist kinetic word art.

His battles were the equivalent of an aural kaleidoscope gone berserk; seemingly slap-dashed playground taunting, dazzling you with 'Flash Blitz' bombs as the speedster wove in and out between the monkey bars of vowels and the merry-go-round of circling consonants to confuse the eye and mind with a tornado of frenetic activity; all seemingly meaningless chatter.

Yet it wasn't truly abstract or ultimately meaningless noise anymore than the cacophony produced by a mother bird defending its nest.

The language of The Flash was fast and furious, but it did hold a pattern once you deciphered it's Rosetta Stone.

  
  


Flash....was the lone rodeo bullfighter and clown in a League that consisted of trapeze artists.

  
  


Superman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Green Lantern, Shayera Hol...all flew through the air with the greatest of ease. Even Batman who lacked the actual power of flight could perform a semblance of it. They were the giants amongst men, their eyes reflecting bright celestial bodies.

Flash could not fly.

He was tied to the earth, to the very dust of it. It filled his nose and eyes; lived in his lungs no matter how fast he ran over its surface, tugging him down, binding him to the ground. For all his speed he could not travel in the others more lofty home of air and sky.

The speeder can look, but not touch the sky.

He can't leave it be either; always reaching, always trying...always failing to be allowed to mount and subdue his own beasts.

The clown shrugs and pretends that it doesn't matter; and, perhaps it doesn't all that much.

  
  


The blood of the rodeo clown pumps with little other purpose than to protect the true 'stars of the show': the cowboys, the would-be tamers of the beasts. The bullfighter's speed, his agility, those are not honed for his own enrichment but utilized to keep the others from fatal harm should they fall.

So such 'bullfighters' as likely to be the ones gored and trampled underfoot even as the spotlight never stays on them.

  
  


_The role of the rodeo clown was to entertain and distract._

 

Lex had held Wally captive for the past year; Luthor was very familiar with the youth's penchant for using his motor mouthed incongruities as a shield _-a barrel betwixt the flesh of the man and the horns of the bull-_ when all other battle options were depleted; when running was not enough. The odd things that could drop unhindered from that redhead's mouth were often comedic and in an odd way rather refreshing after hours of stressful mastermind sessions. It was likely this knack for dispensing mental health therapy that the League unconsciously valued more than West's meta powers.

Flash gave the League a reason to be not only dispensers of justice, but to be heroes. To stay together.

Look how quickly they had fallen under foot once their clown was gone.

.

.

"It is you who have been thoughtless, pet, ignoring the Martian's feelings."

"His feelings?" Wally asked with forced joviality. "Hey, Lech Lucre, slipping into third-person royalty-speak is a sign of madness, you know. Madness isn't a game best played by bent aces going on forty-five. Now, I can get away with poking around because I'm still a stud at twenty-one while your Napoleon act is crazy eights the way to Sunday. Look at what happened to the Queen who got cut to the heart when her diamonds ran out and she became an old maid after clubbing the King with a spade. Even Slap Jack tried to commit suicide by royally flushing himself away when things got stacked against him. Want me to speed dial a psychiatrist for you? One of their spiffy white jackets would be an improvement over that tacky green number you're wearing while your stuck solo fishing for ways out of your setback."

"I'm afraid that's not in the _cards_ for today," Luthor patiently batted the 'bombs' aside, "so we'll cross that _bridge_ when we come to it. I was referring to one of your old _playing pack_."

"To be honest (which is a word beyond your vocabulary but try to keep up anyway) I'm not much into team sports anymore. Cross country jogging is more my speed."

_"It is all right, lord-master Luthor.”_ _ J'onzz voice politely interjected. _ _“Wallace is merely disoriented and upset about his interrupted dream. Surely he did not mean to disparage my person or yours. I beg that you grant him mercy on this."_

_"Um..J'onn, buddy, o_ rgetfay hetay reamday."

_"What was that, Wallace? Disconnecting from your dream seems to have confused your speech center."_

It was not fair that all of this made the redhead want to slap his forehead. Really, didn't he have enough of a headache to deal with without adding to it?

"J'onn, would you shut the hell up about that dream? Not the time or place," an exasperated Wally exclaimed. "What the seven hells is with this _Lord-master_ baloney? Where is Lord Master of Baloney, anyway, and where are...?" Wally's anger trailed off along with his voice as bile rose in his throat "...you..."

Minty green.

_...oh Hell...no._


	16. Violations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex was not happy when Wally escaped and destroyed his building.  
> Wally's about to find out just how unhappy Luthor is with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has torture (molestation of different kinds.) It's not *really(* graphic, but hardly pleasant subject matter. The character of Lex is a sadistic jerk. I didn't create him, somebody in DC did and based on what I've read the guy is...a sadistic jerk who is inwardly terrified of metas and thus feels a need to lord over them.
> 
> Also, sorry for the lateness.  
> Roach infestation, unhappiness with Dan Didio/DC Powers That Be (San Diego Comicon 2012: no plans for Wally back in comics for foreseeable future?! Not even in Multiverse? SERIOUSLY WTF did the character do to them?! They've forced/shoved back Barry already! Wally's not a threat to their childhood hero! Jeebus, already!)....eh...family difficulties, financial worries.....all not conducive to enjoying life period let alone writing. (Frankly, I don't know which is worse, insects from the sewers or Didio's all out attempt to glorify Barry Allen as the only Flash worth having in comics. Sorry, hate to say that about a person, but the man is making me despise him. Gawd. Because of his jackass decrees I have been boycotting DC 52 products since July 2011. What little interest I had in Barry is quickly dying into smoldering embers. The new Jay Garrick? Horrible new costume.)

  
  


**Chapter 16: Violations**

  
  


_ Luthor smiled. _ _"Very good, Wally. You are fully comprehending now. I was getting worried there might be permanent brain damage."_

Seriously, what god had he pissed on to deserve this turn of events?

Taking a deep breath to avoid vomiting, Wally fought not to give into panic a second time.

Claustrophobia had always been a minor problem of his. An inconvenience at best. It's level was nowhere near as debilitating as Shayera's could get, right?''

Yeah, so he repeatedly told himself whenever it came up; so if he concentrated he could usually deal, put on the brave face and distract himself from it.

This wasn't anything so simple as feeling hemmed in, though; not something easily ignored. This was a primal fear worse than drowning. It was snagging it's claws into his skull and dumping ice water into his veins, but he was cool. He wasn't going to lose it...not...

...going...

...to...

" _Holy--!_ _B_ rain damage? Brain damage?! J'onn, you _ATE_ ME? HOW COULD YOU  EAT ME?!"

_"Please do not be afraid, Wallace."_

_"Bit late for that, pal!" Wally snapped at him. "Are you colorblind, crazy, and batshit insane, J'onn? Didn't the_ _red_ _and general linear shape of_ _The Flash_ _give you a clue I'm not one of your freaking Oreos? Hurl me_ _out_ _this second or I'll...I'll-hell, you're in for the fucking worst case of upset stomach in medical history! Something you ate is_ _NOT_ _going to agree with you!"_ He started vibrating only to be held tighter by the 'goo' hereto be known as J'onn The Orange-Eyed, Two-faced, Sneaky Martian People Eater.

  
  


_I said, "Mister Martian People Eater,  
What's your line?"  
He said,  
“Eatin' speedster people,  
And it sure is fine.”_

  
  


(Gah! Sometimes his impulsive sense of comedy had no sense of timing. Then again...)

"J'onn...dude...ever heard of Foot and Mouth disease? How'd you like my _foot_ _and_ your _mouth_ meeting for some colossal oral _dis-ease_!"

_"Wallace.."_

_Wallace_ , however, was on a fear-high and not listening.

"J'ahONN...I've wearing my Flash boots, _J'onnyboy_. Think speedster. Think the soles of these beauties having traipsed all over some of the more unsanitary areas of Earth and what they've stepped in along the way. I'm going to start wiping global village microbes all over your insides if you don't vomit me out _right now_!"

_"Wallace, I am immune to most Earth microbes and you are not wearing boots of any kind."_

"I'm _not?"_ Wally assimilated that bit of info with a blink.

_No shirt. No shoes. No service, fool. Probably naked then. Made sense since he'd been eaten; easier to digest without spandex stuck between the teeth._

_Did J'onn have teeth?_

_The Martian practically subsisted on Oreos. Did you need teeth for junk food?_

_Course you did, why else eat it if it wasn't mean to rot your chompers?_

_'If he used one of my lightning ear antennae as a toothpick, I'll kill him. Don't scream._ _ Don't. _ _Batman wouldn't scream. Bats would calmly consider all the elements and then do something scientific and clever. The Dark One didn't spazz..he didn't...'_

_"_ I've got athlete's foot! Jock itch! _Body odor,_ _J'onn! Just try to get a date while suffering with a case of raging halitosis!"_

_"Nor am I subject to this world's fungi--which you are incidentally are not harboring, Wallace. Also, I lack a sense of smell in this form and am not currently dating anyone. Furthermore, my physiology does not correspond to that of Earth's invertebrates. You have not been ingested, merely engulfed. I can safely encase a human body indefinitely without damage to myself or it. What digestion I will perform will be very localized and highly controlled."_

_"_ Say _whaaha? What the hell's_ _that_ _supposed to mean? You can just shove_ _that_ _thought where...where.._ Oh..oh freaking- _ew!_ Vomit me, J'onn! Now! Start spewing speedster! _No_ _way_ _in hell I'm coasting down any uncharted Where-No-Man-Has-Gone-Before, Mystery Martian canal!"_

Through the gaps of his hysterical yells, Wally could clearly hear Luthor's hearty chuckling. In his terror over being _eaten_ , he'd forgotten the mastermind was out there, enjoying his reaction. The thought cooled the edge from his panic as another emotion started to grow. He growled in anger.

"I should have known this was _your_ idea, Lex _Loser_. Not funny."

His nemesis cleared his throat.

"To the contrary” Lex informed him, “watching you _freak ou_ t has been hilarious. I've not enjoyed myself so much in a long time. But I can't steal the credit for your being where you are As much as I'd love to take that honor, it was the inspired idea of my business associate."

Luthor stepped closer to admire the shapeless and semi-translucent mass that completely surrounded the speedster within it. "The Martian's body in this gelled state makes for the perfect prison. While not particularly as aesthetically pleasing as the old one due to the color and unfortunate level of opaqueness, your new pen is quite efficient. Even the viewing kinks will be rectified as the Martian has promised he will work on fine tuning his molecules to the thinness of spandex so you won't be so obscured while in there."

_"I was thinking of becoming a full body suit for him, lord-master Luthor. Getting the thickness down to a level that you can see through me consistently is the only true difficulty I foresee."_

J'onn's attempt to apologize apparently did not go over well for Luthor glared at the green amoeba that was engulfing The Flash.

“What did I tell you about speaking out of turn?"

_"I am sorry, lord-master. It will not happen again."_ His meek attitude irked Wally whose ire was already approaching full velocity. Never mind that he wasn't terribly thrilled with J'onn right now; how dare Luthor speak so to a member of the League?

"J'onn, you don't have to kow-tow to this Rogaine Reject. Show some damned _pride_."

_"I_ _ am _ _proud of my service to my god, Wallace."_

"Geez, if you're not going to be the one to puke, J'onn, kindly don't make me do it instead."

Wally glowered at the universe in general and Luthor in particular. If he could just stay pissed angry, he couldn't get scared. Two full blown emotions could not inhabit the same mass at the same time when one of them was the legendary West temper.

About time something from his dad's side of the gene pool would prove to have a benefit.

“Don't you have a company to run into the ground? Lives other than mine to destroy?”

“No.”

Luthor, Wally could see, was getting way too much satisfaction from his discomfiture.

“Don't look so smug. I eventually checked out of your last accommodations.”

“Yes, pet, you did. However did you manage that, by the way?” Not that Luthor expected to get an answer to that.

Which he didn't.

“Considering how many of your Superman traps also went bust,” Wally thoughtfully mused, “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you had to find a 'business partner' to get something done right. Come to think of it, you went and gathered an entire Injustice League together to try to take us down only to end up with scrambled egg fu yung on your face. Also the eggnog facial mask that time with the giant Santa robot and the equally over-sized banana peel left over from the mechanical monkey plot of Toyman's. Not saying much for your supposed genius-level intelligence especially when nuts and bolts are involved.” He let out a nasty snicker at Luthor's expense. “Really; all those hot-off-the-mold press, expensive robots knowing full well that yours truly is the fastest reverse-engineering mechanic alive. What were you thinking?”

For a moment, Wally thought he saw an angry grimace float over his enemy's mug, but then it was gone as his captor regained his composed 'victor' air.

Pity.

“An odd observation to make considering current circumstances. Past failures were merely stepping stones to present achievements. You can hardly say the same. Science background, yet no college degrees; an internship based on your uncle's and presumably Batman's backing. Living in a small, run-down apartment building comprised mainly of welfare recipients. Is that why you joined the Justice League, pet, because you couldn't cut it on your own even with the aid of your pitiful level of facetious wit?”

“Not everybody was lucky enough to be born with a _silver_ foot in their mouth. Speaking of which, there you go with the pet fixation thing again. What, did the Animal Shelters deny the Luthor family a puppy during Little Lexie's childhood because the school psychologist pegged you as a sadistic maniac?”

“Perhaps at the time the Shelters didn't have the specific breed I wanted.”

“Yeah, I guess the Kennel Club does frown on allowing importing in Apocalypse Hel Hounds as companions for potential psychotics.

Maybe you're just not a dog person. Have you ever considered simply buying a goldfish in a bowl? Hardly any maintenance at all what with those weekly food pellet things. On second thought (considering your lack of nurturing skills, and a tendency to dine on sushi) maybe you should forget the live fish part and just go with one of those scuba diver decorations with the bubble maker and the plastic giant clam.” Wally made his hand mimic the actions of a clam opening and closing it's shell. “Not my speed, but keeping an aquarium supposed to be riveting entertainment not to mention calming the beast within. Perfect for you.”

Shit. Luthor was still smiling at him and Wally doubted it was in appreciation for his prowess at stand-up comedy. Stupid little weasel smile, too.

Not good.

It was almost as if Luthor knew that he was trying to get Lex angry enough to do something stupid which would allow Wally to gain the upper hand, save the day, and get back in time for the nearest all-you-can-eat special.

"As I was saying, my Wally, that little problem will soon be rectified.” (He ignored the rolling eyes from his captive at the usage of 'my Wally'.) Regardless, it still holds true that being trapped within there you can not strike out at anyone or escape via vibration as you'd be immobilized within less than a second. Our alien shape shifter's biology is symbiotic and compatible enough with yours to accomplish this feat. The most extensive data on your physical and emotional needs is cataloged in his mind. J'onzz will keep you utterly healthy and sanitized; in addition his telepathy allows me to freely converse with you no matter where I am or your state of consciousness (at least this side of a deep coma) while short-circuiting any mental attempts you might devise. In short, you are mine more than ever now, _my amusing and thoroughly whipped_ pet.”

Luthor paused for any comment on that, but on getting nothing but silence and a glare went on:

“There is an odd thrill to having such complete control over another sentient being while it is _aware_ of being enslaved. Much more satisfying than Gorilla Grodd's silly mind control where the pet might as well be a robotic child's toy. But naturally you will never know the thrill from the _master's_ perspective, being consigned to that of the _owned_."

“Man, you just don't know when to quit.” Wally crossed his arms while lifting an eyebrow. "No, seriously; how many ghost writers did you hire to come up with that little speech? Or did you rip it off direct from old B-movie porno dialogue? Those clothes need more flare and some gold rings to show off are a must, but if you try really hard at it, you might make the grade for a disco-age pimp."

Luthor ignored his pet's snark. There would be plenty of opportunity to make him come to heel soon enough.

"Perhaps it was too sophisticated for you to comprehend. Let me make it more plain. No retreating into the subconscious for you, Wally. No daydreams to escape into. No chance to employ secret powers against me. I can't help but wonder...how _does_ that make you feel?

"Bored?" Wally lied. His anger was dwindling fast, like grains of sand through a storm grate. Fear was raising it's ugly head again.

  
  


_(Don't panic. Everything had a loophole. Heck, if the various Rogues could escape prison on a monthly basis...)_

Yet...

Could Luthor have indeed come up with the ultimate trap? J'onn was a thousand years old; no telling how long a Martian normally lived. He could be stuck in Martian Marmalade for the rest of his life.

Gave a whole new twist to _going crackers_. Except in this case the cracker was being overwhelmed by the jelly.

  
  


Outside his prison Luthor was stroking J'onn in an almost loving manner. "Yes...I sense it now through the Martian's mind share. You're very afraid. It is a novel experience to know exactly what is going through your head at any given moment I choose-even through the distracting chatter. Isn't that what you are also sensing, Martian? I cannot comprehend why you did not avail yourself of such a power more often."

Wally's eyes dilated, his mind working through all the implications of Luthor's threats.

_(J'onn's telepathic link! He'd attuned the League that way during missions so that everyone was in constant communication right down to surface thoughts. Only rarely and under great need did the Martian ever go deeper into another mind. It was distasteful to him-a mind rape.)_

He started trembling in renewed horror. To Lex Luthor, mind rape would be considered a welcome _tool_.

_(Oh shit, this was bad.)_

  
  


_"He is truly awed by your brilliance, lord-master, and my power is yours to use."_

"Don't let him _awe_ himself into heart failure." Lex drily reprimanded. “If he dies I will be most displeased.”

_"Of course, lord-master."_ _ There was a pause. _ _"Lord-master, the others are getting close."_

_ "I am going to step out for a moment to see about that insignificant matter. Take good care of my pet for me while I'm gone, Martian. On no account is he to be freed." _

.

.

West didn't think he was having a heart attack although suffering a fatal one would not have been all together unwelcome at that point. It seemed that this was not in Baldy's game plan, however, as the goo-that-was-J'onzz responded to his body's distress by increasing in temperature and moving over his stressed muscles in soothing patterns. Very soothing. He was relaxing despite himself...

...until the warmth started kneading from the sides of his pelvic region to inner thighs and he remembered that he was nude (unless you counted J'onn as _a covering_ and ignored the fact that J'onn was _alive_ and damned likely _-very aware of what he was doing to Wally;_ _all of_ which _was not the slightest_ _bit_ _restful_ _no matter how you sliced it._ )

_"Of course I am aware of the effect, Wallace. Being educated as to your every need was a perquisite to being chosen as your keeper. Your recent...wet dream (such an interesting phrase)...was very instructive for the additional information it provided on where you like to be touched and to what degree. Other than that, I had only what memories our god was willing to share with me. If you can instigate another such sexual dream some time soon I would be appreciative for any added information I might glean from it. I am here to extend your life span and sex is part of your wellness regime."_

_ Okay, that was....a two-edged present if ever there was one. It wasn't exactly like Wally steered away from pleasure on a habitual basis; however, this was not the way he would have chosen to get it: like most psychologically sound people he wasn't into 'dub-con' either as a giver or a receiver. _

"Go away, John, and take your Swedish massage techniques with you."'

_(You're disrupting my attempts to meditate you out. Damn..that feels good._

_No...no it doesn't!_

_Calm, peaceful, yogurt-y thoughts, Wally!_

_“ Besides that this is all flavors of wrong on general principle, discussing my sex life with you would be like confessing to mom._

_ Or, you know, Superman....before he went weird like you." _

__(Damn Luthor!)_ _

_"I can not do that, Wallace,”_ _ came J'onzz warm and patient response.  _ _“Also, I believe the word you are thinking of is more likely 'yoga' and not 'yogurty'-unless you are thinking of that masseuse parlor you discovered in Colorado that was purportedly founded by Miss Dairy World, USA; and I am humbled that you place me on the same level as your Life Bearer."_

"Must you listen in on _everything?_ It's rude _._ You do remember what _rude_ means? _"_

_"Yes, Wallace. I have striven to be very polite and mannered where you are concerned for you are more valuable to-"_

"Your god. I got the picture." _And a headache._

_ Immediately, his shoulders and neck were being massaged. _

_ "Would you stop that!" _

_"Wallace, I do apologize for again bringing up a subject you for some reason find distressful, but could you expand on the name of these fantasy worlds of yours and the generic term for them? 'Wet dream' seems a curious human phrase considering you were not in water for the duration of it. Is it considered_ _ wet _ _because it took place near a body of water? I have always been very curious about this aspect of your species: that humans seek sexual acts so often even when not desiring the creation of children. Indeed, there are an amazing amount of products designed specifically to keep the female from being impregnated even though most Earth cultures refer to children as a 'blessing'. Even more items are manufactured to supposedly heighten the sensations created during copulation. It seems particularly a compulsion of the young adults although it appears to continue well into old age._

_“ Oh God..._

_ John, I'm the Flash, not Dr. Ruth or a Sex Ed teacher. We are _ __not_ _ _ having this discuss--” _

_“Your pardon, Wallace, but I would prefer to insist. As the youngest of the Founders and the most openly flirtatious, you were the best candidates to ask for details about this curious subject; however, Martian and Earth taboos forbade me from inquiring about it or looking inside your mind. Fortunately, our god has given me permission to gain knowledge of human sexuality by direct access as long as I share my findings with him."_

_"And he will do so to." Luthor's voice entered their minds. "My business is completed. "I have been enjoying your little chat even from afar."_

"Shit _."_ ( _The lack of privacy was going to drive Wally spare and it had only been about a half hour since he'd woken up in hell.)_

"If you must answer Nature's call," Luthor smirking voice sounded in his head, "the Martian will happily dispose of any waste you need to excrete." At his prisoner's uncomprehending stare, he gave a short bark of a laugh. "You still don't comprehend the beauty of it, pet?”

“Eh?”

“I suppose I was expecting too much. Do explain your role as his keeper, Martian and keep our link open. Take your time, I want to savor his reactions to _this_."

  
  


The preening Martian was all to happy to comply.

J'onzz felt like _he_ was in his own version of his ward's paradise as he began to spell out various duties to the increasingly distraught meta within him; and well he should for it was his own logical reasoning of all the little things needed to take proper care of West---aided by John Dee's recommendations---that had persuaded his god to choose him as keeper. J'onn was thus very proud of his worth to lord-master Luthor.

  
  


_"I am more than happy to remove any urine or fecal matter for you as it is excreted, Wallace. Even now I am replacing your carbon dioxide emissions and removing the symptoms of diaphoresis by a process of filtration-"_

"Diaph..what?" Wally interrupted in a faint murmur. The uncommon words were not unfamiliar; however, his mind was still spinning with the horror and shock of this novel trap he was literally mired in and connecting nouns and whatnot to their relevant definitions was taking longer than usual. Or maybe his subconscious knew just fine what J'onn was talking about but was trying to spare him.

_"Diaphoresis: your exhalations and excessive perspiration, Wallace. I am also regulating your surface temperature as it come into contact with me seeing that you do generate more warmth than a normal human does and I do not want you to get baked by your own reflected heat. It is our god's wish that you are kept in good health as well as desirable in appearance."_

"Ah...and just how are you going to do that?" Wally bit his lip with the dawning realization that every awful thing he'd experienced at LexCorp was as next to nothing compared to being _cared for_ by a possessed J'onn. Privacy was already just a novel concept---none of his thoughts would be safe from Martian telepathy (and by extension Luthor should either care to listen in.) All that was horrible enough, yet his twisting gut was telling him more horrors were in the offing because if J'onn never had to let him out for bathroom breaks then his chances of escape were plummeting like a sky diver who'd forgotten to strap on a chute with nothing below him but a bottomless abyss.

_(Yeah, escapes; dwell on the escape part because I really don't want to even think about...)_

_"Groomed, Wallace. Removal of excessive body hair and skin layers."_ _ The Martian's mental voice helpfully expanded on his new role,  _ _"I can dissolve the ends of your epidural growths such as fingernails and hair at the rate they grow out as I am now abrading away dead skin layers."_

_(Not thinking. So not thinking.)_

For a moment, all the goo shifted around him in undulating waves of varying textures, driving the speedster's 'not thinking' strategy right off the freeway entrance and onto a different yet parallel service road. Wally let out a whimper and was mortified to realize it was as much from ecstasy at the intense sensations as from distress that personal space was truly nonexistent while within J'onn. His nether regions had not been exempt from the _cleansing,_ _au contrare, J'onn seemed to be centering on them,_ and...well, unlike his mental state that area could not claim to be unhappy anymore as it was glaringly apparent to all. He blushed everywhere it was possible to for what must have been the hundredth time since waking here, uncomfortably aware that he couldn't hide any of his reactions from Luthor or J'onn whether they be of the flesh or in the mind.

_(Not thinking, not thinking, not thinking!)_

Except that he was because when you had a jet engine for a mind you couldn't just shut it down at a moments notice particularly when all the little red warning lights were screaming at you.

It was really unfair.

Why did Lex have to be born a malicious jackass?

Why did J'onn have to be susceptible to mind control?

Why was circumstance dead set against one Wallace R. West being cut a break?

And why, why why, _why_ did his body have to have such well-tuned pleasure receptors?

  
  


_"I am glad I can thus make you titillated, Wallace, as the lord-master enjoys seeing you so aroused and glowing; until now I was not certain a mere cleansing would make you feel so good. Do not disparage your hormones as they have made you blessed to our god. You are truly special to him as your body is exceedingly more willing to show it's pleasure with such intensity. Most humans cannot vibrate or cum multiple times like you can. He also likes the way the blood enriches your skin and your eyes glisten when very embarrassed.”_

_“ Shut up, J'onn.”_

_“When it is time for our god to partake of his pleasure, I will cleanse your lower bowels so that you are absolutely clean for him during intercourse. I admit I have never attempted this before, but promise to keep the enemas very gentle as long as lord-master Luthor does not demand otherwise."_

"I'm serious, J'onn, shut the...Ene..enem..." His captive audience stuttered, unable to voice the word. Wally swallowed hard in a fight for composure. They were just trying to scare and fluster him further. (They were doing a bang-up job of it!) But J'onn wouldn't really do that to another living being...right? Even Luthor wouldn't stoop so low as to have _... J'onn was not really willing to...to..._

_"Of course I am, Wallace."_

"Oh...my...God." Wally's horror level hit a new record so surpassing the old one he couldn't even articulate anything beyond those three words. "OhmyGod..."

_"Yes, Wallace. It is indeed an honor to keep you for lord-master Luthor as this makes our god very pleased with me."_ J'onn infinitesimally paused, his next words tinged with concern. _"Wallace? Your heart rate is too elevated for your inactive state, yet the level of blood on your skin's surface has dropped. You have neglected to take a breath and your bladder is contracting in spasms. You are going into extreme shock. Rendering aid."_ J'onn created _s_ oft waves to press against his charge's diaphragm and also steady pressure just above his groin, inducing the human's lungs to reactivate and his bladder to fully empty itself in one motion rather than in fits. Color returned to Wally's face, but his eyes held the wild look of a trapped and traumatized animal.

_"Lord-master, I believe your pet has had what is called a panic attack. Logically, it would be best to sedate him."_

Lex considered it because even with the barrier in his way he could see that West was in bad shape. It would be better for his health to hold off. He wasn't actually a cruel man...at least not by his own definition of the term. Ambition sometimes required draconian measures---calculated sacrifices---yet his goal's were ultimately for the betterment of humankind; and naturally, the attainment of his own desires. So, no, there was no need to unduly torture the speedster.

Plus, he was feeling a mild headache coming on. Some aspirin should rectify...

Then again, Lex really wanted his pet to thoroughly learn his place and it wasn't likely that West would expire from this. The meta had survived...well, maybe not worse, but instilling the fear of 'god' and the Martian would not be amiss. "Not yet. His heart is rather resilient. Let him rest until I am physically returned. Be prepared to resuscitate him if need be."

* * *

Being a responsible being, J'onzz had replayed everything that had occurred while he was away so that his god did not miss a moment. Luthor had observed it all while wearing a smug expression.

That meant he was pleased.

J'onn could not be happier.

  
  


Lex was enjoying his revenge immensely and had Dee to thank for it. The best part of all was that he'd only just started. Waiting for J'onn's mental assertion that Wally's heart rhythm had slowed to within safe levels (as predicted), he stepped closer.

"Poor Wally...every time you think you're life can't possibly get any worse it manages to do so. You never should have snapped at me and run away, my pet. Your punishment for biting the hand that fed you has not yet even begun and rest assured that it will be 'witnessed' by your mentors. Seeing as they are 'unavailable', it will have to be their _dummy_ forms." He snickered. "Not much of a difference to the formerly breathing variety when it comes right down to it."

(Still feeling shell-shocked, Wally yet managed to snarl at the insult to his Uncle and family friend Jay Garrick. Jay had attended university in his youth and had known his way around various scientific theories; Barry had in addition been a genius inventor.)

"And now, to show you the full beauty of your cage, my Wally. It is truly fascinating."

With a knowing smile, Luthor raised his left palm and pressed it against J'onn's outer surface.

“Open sesame.”

The green gel flowed away from the advancing hand and arm, keeping a hairsbreadth distance as Luthor's flesh advanced (for the Martian was not worthy of touching his god.) In this way Lex soon had a clear path to the red head's crotch. Lex's other hand went in to hold West's jaw, recreating the same effect with the green gel nimbly moving out of his way. His thumb stroked the blushing cheek as the other hand cupped and fondled it's target until it hardened from being so stimulated. The speedster recoiled in vain as he tried to pull away; however, enough of his body remained encased in the 'amoeba' that he couldn't do anything about the unwanted touches.

Luthor could see the frustration and fear flit over his pet's face. This was...oh, what was the newest word for it on the street? Sweet? Something of that nature.

"Lex...please,yougottalistentome.” Wally swallowed back a moan. This was important. He had to get Luthor to listen to him! “The whole world's in--"

"Silence, pet."

“--danger from--”

Martian Manhunter goo flowed to cover the speedster's mouth.

"Oh, it's a bit late for false warnings of doom _or_ apologies, dear Wally. Normally, you already know I'd start off punishing a very naughty puppy by having an assistant hold up its bum while I delivered a few good smacks until the area was as red as the puppy's favorite color and the puppy howled with each swat.” His pet looked even more mortified. “ A pity there isn't time for that now...so we'll have to go right to the main event. Martian, I imagine my pet is very filthy and filth is not pleasurable to me. Wash him....and do be _thorough._ " Pushing up on the chin, Luthor's fingers encouraging the horror-filled jade eyes to the level of his own so he could observe them closely for every second of this. "Oh...and keep him awake. Don't let him dream himself away. Your god wants his pet aware just how displeased he has been by past transgressions."

Luthor had almost forgotten what a joy it was to watch West's irises dilate to tight green rims when his prize was truly and utterly terrified.

* * *


	17. To Know The Reason Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Human behavior flows from three main sources: desire, emotion, and knowledge.  
> Plato
> 
> What does Luthor covet so much from Wally West? Why the fascination with the least important Founder of the Justice League?
> 
> (note: If you see anything beyond "Pity." kindly ignore it. Stupid editor refused to delete the parts I haven't revised for the next chapter and I didn't notice until after I posted this. Fixed...except for the notes...left that as a teaser.)

 

* * *

 

 

   _._

_"It's funny. I didn't think too much of West at first. He was kind of evasive, had a temper, fell in love too easy... But really, I was wrong. He was doing what I forgot to do. What I thought I lost. He was showing his emotions." ~~Cyborg: The Flash #186._

_._

_"Sex is emotion in motion." ~~Mae West  
_

_.  
_

* * *

Wally was tired and he hurt and he just wanted to crawl under a rock or a building or _something_ and die; yet no, his body was already repairing itself not understanding that in this case, being 'ready to go again' was a thoroughly bad thing. His mind was also trying to wrap itself back into a decently working state, but that wasn't terribly welcome either because oblivion looked like the best way to go.  Maybe if he slept for a decade or two?  Still, there was a question he really wanted answered. It was important--significant. Something worth knowing. If he could only remember why. It was just on the tip of his tongue...

"I'm done now, Martian," Luthor informed his pet's keeper. Always averse to his appearance being anything less than pristine, Lex seriously wanted to get cleaned up. The time spent inflicting his lust on Wally was always intensely pleasurable--but terribly messy. He turned to go where he knew the building kept one of two shower facilities, but was stopped by a hoarse gasp.

"Wait..."

 

Luthor half turned around, curiousity warring with impatience to rid himself of drying sweat and other uncomfortable fluids. "This had better be important, pet."

"Tell me why," West looked at him and then quickly glanced away. There had been no defiance in the green eyes, just pain, weariness, and confusion. The sight made Lex grow warm.  Luthor was under no delusion that the meta's defiance was gone for good. It was merely licking it's wounds within the red head's psyche and the multi-billionaire was actually pleased by that fact as much as he was by the gesture of submission.

It made his conquests more exciting.

Curiousity won out.

 

" _Why_ is a very vague question," Luthor reminded the boy.  "I don't have time to play philosophy with you all day."

Wally inhaled raggedly then fell into a coughing fit. Luthor showed no concern.  He could see the 'amoeba' already moving to support his pet so that he could breath easier.  As expected, West took another, more normal breath--still not looking up while muttering something.  Luthor demanded he repeat it, louder this time and clearly or he would leave straightaway and later there would be consequences for wasting his time.

"Why do you keep doing this to me? You can have any supermodel you want--willing or not. With Dee's influence can have any meta you desire, same lack of restrictions. So...why me?"

"Why should I answer that?"  Lex watched in amusement as the weary man searched for an answer that Luthor would accept and not immediately dismiss as irrelevant.

The boy floundered for a full second, pale fingers twitching as if he could pluck the very talent of eloquence from Martian DNA before almostly sheepily asking..."Because you want to?"

Luthor chuckled. "Oh?"

"To shove it in my face?"

"I think I've shoved plenty in your face this past hour," Luthor replied--and enjoyed the wince his words caused.

"But..." and now the speedster didn't even try to hide the weariness from his voice as he stated with absolute assurance "you're not _tired_ of it."

To Luthor's unexpected pleasure, his pet not only had a comeback to his quip, but a plausible one.  In fact, he'd said something logical and very astute. Or maybe it wasn't surprising after all.  West was so mercurial: one moment the clown, the next almost a philospher.  Add to that his pet had been particularly fun to be with this past hour; offering just the right mix of horror, denial, and despite it all--spirit....well, Lex was beyond pleased.

_Oh, my Wally is a delight. Always managing to enchant me._

"Fair enough."

Turning fully around to face the sweaty, and bedraggled prisoner, Lex ordered the Martian to support West's frame so that the former hero was 'standing' to just below Luthor's level.  The red head looked compliant, eyes kept down.

 Lex reached to hold him by the chin, however; just because he could.

 

"With the noteable exception of a certain speedster, the League Founders are all hardened warriors of the finest order, forged into adulthood by nature and experience."  He felt the twitch of a muscle and hardened his grip a tad before he could be subjected to some pointless drivel along the lines of 'I was Kid Flash' and 'years of fighting'.

"Listen closely, pet, and do not interrupt or you will regret it."

The green eyes moved to center unwaveringly on his, silently conveying his agreement to the terms.

Good boy.

"As I was saying, every Founder of that group -save you- is an adult in every meaning of the word.  Each one evolves further into maturity every year. It is what most people do after a period of childhood...grow up, grow old, grow cynical...die.

You are correct that there are thousands better looking than you are, my Wally; for instance, the Flash is by no means a classical femine beauty like Diana Prince or a masculine one such as Superman.  That aside, though, your team mates fall into distinct categories when it comes to the sins of the flesh that you have managed to evade: the inexperienced and the boring.

Again, let us take into consideration Wonder Woman. She is ageless, strong, with skin like moonlight on satin that begs one to test it's smoothness." (Luthor could feel West bristling with indignation for the sake of the Amazon's perceived _virtue_ , but the boy just swallowed his temper and some undoubtedly highly caustic words on Luthor's postulated ancestory.  Ah, chivalry...how quaint.)  His eyes hardened. "She is also as cold to men as the clay she was supposedly formed by. Eye candy, but probably as experienced in pleasuring a man in his bed as as a rock and as stimulating as one." Wally actually looked surprised as if this idea had never occured to him before, but then most men seemed to assume that beautiful women were somehow gifted with the knowledge of sexuality at birth.  He could almost see the cogs working underneath ginger-red hair.

" _The Martian" (_ an amused Luthor overly emphasised the name to get the boy's wandering attention back to where it belonged) _"_ is the epitome of physical versatility; he can be stunning or ugly at a moment's notice. Whatever your tastes desire in the physical, he can mimic it. But his imitations fail beyond that as he also as yet lacks for true experience with human intercourse---and his soul remains otherworldly.  Oh, he can don the garb of human skin down to the last pore, but human emotions?" Luthor sighed in mock disappointment.  "He's an alien born and raised. Inhuman. Inserting 'tab A into slot B' would be as fake as satisfying yourself with an inflatable doll."

"Batman's ability for intelligent repartee during battle far surpasses your own. Sex with him would be as much a battle of wits as a fight for dominance on who topped who. Exciting and dangerous to contemplate." He paused, noting how his captive's chin gave an almost inperceptible downard push on Luthor's fingertips.  Did the boy fancy The Dark Knight?  "However, he is deficient in showing his emotions. One might as well rape a mannequin for all he will let his inner turmoil show.  Courting his favor would be futile."  A flash of forlorn longing in the open face.  Poor boy; infatuated with something he'd never have.

"Shayera Hol is an alien wildcat who happens to sport wings as well as claws. She shows her center just fine--yet it is the soul of a mindless animal and animals cannot weep from emotional hurt."  (There, that streak of chivalrous indignation again.  Undoubtedly raised to hold women on some sort of untouchable pedestal.  Probably the fault of his mother or that aunt of his.

"Superman has his charms" Lex almost wistfully allowed, "however, he is yet another alien who lives up to his name. I imagine Lois Lane would chip a tooth attempting any truly passion-filled kiss, while her manicured nails would suffer the same fate if she ever made the mistake of trying to give The Man Of Steel a love bite or a scratch. It is possible that one would find dentures and false fingernails fashioned from kryptonite a necessity for any fulfilling sex play with The Man of Steel."  He tilted his head as if in thought.  "What do you think?"  He smiled at Wally who was shivering a little.  "Dear me...did I ignite some past memory?  You didn't actually _do_ it with our Boy Scout?"

Murderous glare, but one squelched quickly enough not to comment on.

Learning, indeed.

"John Stewart has taken a demeanor nearly as stoic as Batman's. He's is as wooden as Wonder Woman only with a double Y chromosome. His ring, though, _could_ form any sex toy at his whim.  Probably knows some delicious alien ones as well.  One would not even have to have the secretary run to the store. Still...he would not be any more willing to share his fire with me than Batman would.

Don't misunderstand, Wally. Despite their assorted shortcomings I plan to amuse myself on all of your old comrades in the future."

He gave a predatory leer.

"But _you_..."

Responding to his master's wishes, J'onzz removed enough of himself with gratifying alacrity so that Luthor could yank Wally against him and deliver a bruising kiss. He rammed his tongue in and around the warm mouth, clutched and squeezed muscled buttocks, manhandled genitalia. After just a few seconds, he let go, stepped back, and admired the result.

_Perfect._

"Martian...a diagnostic on my pet--now!"

"Lord-master," his puppet dutifully intoned "his heart rate is elevated as is his skin temperature from increased blood flow. The lungs are slightly spastic from not enough air. Saliva is hyped in production as are his testosterone levels and tear ducts. Sexual organs are filled to capacity. His brain electrons are firing wildly in confusion. He is aroused, ashamed, angry, desiring to hide and weep, to reach completion, to fight back, to--"

"Stop." Grinning maliciously, Luthor stepped back up to the gasping meta and pet his hair. "If I had done that to the others, at best I'd have gotten part of this banquet of reactions. The next time...maybe. After that...unlikely. The shock would wear off and they'd become as dead as stone under my touch."

Further running his hands over Wally's shivering body, Luthor whispered possessively, "But you...you, my dear, delectable pet...not _you_. Hell, you're not even nearly as tired as you were a moment ago, are you?  Do you know why?"

He wiped away a tear poised precariously upon red lashes, holding West's head so he couldn't jerk it away. More had preceded it; more followed, free and unhindered. "I've raped you how many times now? A hundred? No, more like a thousand. So many times, I have lost count. And each time--- _each and every_ _time_ \--you respond this way. Always blushing. Always crying. Always shocked at finding yourself violated as if it's forever the first assault, always angry at yourself as much as me for not responding as you think you should be...as you were taught you should feel about being violated." He started slowly circling around West, never ceasing the touches here and there.

"At LexCorp I was so intrigued by what I'd discovered I even went so far as to bribe Vandal Savage to tell me as much as he knew about you in the future. Yes, I know he traveled there at least once. That it would be an alternate future he saw was immaterial. What he told me was that even decades in the future you were still referred to as _the kid_. Perhaps meant affectionately, but again, the information was more important for what it implied: emotionally, the Fastest Man Alive...the Master of Motion...never grew up. Never fell prey to the cynicism of his fellow adults.

Always a child.

Perhaps more apt a description would be...always _the virgin_."

The boy was beginning to vibrate again, a mix of anger and frustrated desire?

"You don't like the idea of never being fully accepted as an equal to your peers, yet you suspect it to be true. Naturally, you want to be as stoic and jaded by experience as the others would become, but you can't help it, can you? It's what sets you apart; what makes emotionless Batman almost uncomfortable when you are around him for you are the antithesis of what he is. It's in your DNA to feel things freely and deeply even when such emotions hinder any animal's inborn instinct for self preservation.

The others of the League...they will be temporary playthings. I'll use them once, twice, maybe half a dozen times before they bore me. The thousandth time from now when I squeeze your so-called privates and ram you against a wall...it wil be like this moment. But that's not even the best part, my pet...not by half."

Luthor kissed him again, softer this time; savoring the wet mouth and lips before slowly disengaging after one, sensual lick. He smiled with unabashed lechery at his pet who again blushed and vibrated against him with a need he could not wholly suppress. Luthor closed his eyes to better focus on the burst of heat and pulsing sensations. He ran his fingers through the red hair, centering on the abundant strands while fighting down his own reactions because--in truth--he was physically spent even though West was clearly primed to ejaculate several more times over the capacity of someone with normal...

 _Such energy...an organic perpetual motion machine._ _It can get tired and need time to recharge, but it is never--truly--exhausted._ _There is always a bit of spark held in reserve, quickly flaring back into motion._

One day he would not only own it, Lex swore he would harness it into his own body. It would the foundation of his immortality. Until that goal was attained...well, he'd enjoy his time playing with the meta and his outdated, puritanistic mentality.

Savagely, Luthor jerked Wally's head a bit so that they were looking up at the face of the waxwork second Flash, the revered and martyred Barry Allen--the supposed paradigm of heroic virtue.

"The best, _the icing on the cake_ , Wally,...is that as much as you hate me--and that's not the right word for it as true hate is the one emotion I've never seen in your eyes---you _secretly, humiliatingly, insatiably crave_ what I'm doing...the petting, the kissing, the biting, scratching, groping, banging up your back door. It's all sensation...motion...energy to your body which constantly wars with your conscious mind because your id doesn't care what _he preached--_ -that it's not right or moral to feel good in such a carnal way---because it knows that it _does_ feel good! It's a classic battle, Wally: the bestial _id_ versus the so called cerebral _superego_. The id _wants_ _increased_ excitement and hang the source it comes from while the self-deluded superego tries to place limits on those most natural of impulses. Poor, torn Wally...always so starving for more than just iced mochas, but you never allowed your dominant nature to properly feast on what you also needed because your vanilla plain, _Uncle Barry and his boring friends_ told you it wasn't nice or proper to give into this greed for the mind's electrical motion..to whore yourself for the sake of feeling lust. But it doesn't matter anymore, Wally. You don't have to hide your id from him anymore. Barry's seen it all set free here on wild display. Watched you moan and wiggle and sigh, and grunt, and cry for more of what _he_ demanded you to keep yourself free of."

"You're _sick_ ," Wally breathed out. It was meant to come out as disgust at Luthor...but with his body on overload and the stern look on his Uncle's face, it didn't quite latch onto the intended target.

Luthor smiled and glanced downward to where his hand was gripping hardened flesh. One thumb poised for the coup de grâce.

_The importance of good timing was never to be underestimated._

"You think me repellent, loathsome, the evil villain to be despised? I suppose to you I am all of that. But that doesn't make my words less true. Barry tried to mold you into his straight-as-an-arrow image, but it was a lost cause. Your animal nature separates you from the white bread crowd. You never could be the son he wanted.  Why? Because the greatest Flash of all never wanted a sex-fiend whore for his legacy."

_Now._

Smirking, he laid one fingertip on the straining organ below him, vibrating at his touch. It's barely held load erupted--explosively--some of the white liquid splattering onto the statue as the boy shuddered helplessly within the hold of J'onn. "You were never his.  You never could be anything to him but an embarrassing disgrace....because you're a slave to your body's energy, Wally....and now it is a slave to me."

"I...hate you," West gasped out. "I'll never love you."

"Love," Luthor chuckled. "What has _love_ to do with us? Or hate, especially to one who can't just let even his worst enemy die without trying to _save_ him.  You would too...save me from danger...from myself if you could.  Even now.  Even after all I've done.  How can that be hate?"

His pet bit his lip, but remained silent, unable to come up with a retort to that.  Lex smiled, because it was true...the idiot couldn't stand by and let anyone die....even his tormentor.

"Hate and love are just concepts, Wally. Needs and the exorcise of power are the only true constants. What I do is not evil.  It's...business.  I am making myself your only source for sexual food.  Consider the future. Once Dee's influence is pulled from them, The League won't accept a whore in their pristine clubhouse even if they manage to patch it back together. Not that you need _their_ acceptance. Your addiction for what I provide will be enough. Forget your past life..it is over no matter what. Only the future is ahead of you and that future is _me_.

"I'm _not_ a whore," his captive continued to argue.  "I'm not..." he closed his eyes against the sight of his cum dripping down the statue.

"Hm...no...I suppose that is too crass a term to describe what you are. You, my pet, are a work of art to be displayed and treasured. Even the word that best describes you--emotion--was a clue to what your nature is.

Wally West...perpetual, primal, e- _motion_ : _electrified speed_ \--moving unchanged upon this Earth. Boundless energy. _My_ energy....my Wally." He kissed the freckled nose. "With you, I will live forever." He pulled back and watched as J'onn again fully engulfed the speedster save for the bubble that allowed him to breathe.

 _"By the way,"_ Luthor projected into West's mind, _"there was a bit of a brouhaha just east of here. We had to shoot down a rather uniquely designed black stealth plane. It shattered into a brilliant fireball upon hitting the ground, so I suppose that I'll not be finding out just how tough Batman and his co-conspirators would have been to play with after all._

_Pity."_

* * *

 

 

  .

_"You received a very special gift today. I won't ask you to hide that gift, but I will ask you to earn it. Do you swear to me that you'll use it only to help people in need, and never for personal gain?" ~~Barry Allen to Wally West: The Flash #63_

.

_"But you love your Uncle Barry... That's why you took his name and costume, isn't it? In a sense, you did it so the world wouldn't forget him... or his heroism." ~~Max Mercury: The Flash #78._

_. _  
__

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damned Wally muse refused to capitulate and stay seriously morose for more than a few measly moments---his snark with Dee is more alive than ever! *rests head in hands and mumbles*. Anyway, I hope this still is believable despite The Fastest Smart-Ass Alive refusing to stay deathly depressed like I asked him to.
> 
> (Kind-of Not-Funny Aside: When I let Luthor wax on about his Wally theories I figured he was just being mean, nasty Luthor out to make Wally feel ultra horrible. But then the more I thought about it the more I realized...the Bald Bastard was on the right track! Both the animated Justice League and The Flash comic books verify some of what he's hypothesized. Er..maybe not the sex part [dunno, 'cause Linda never compared notes with Iris or Joan or anyone else that I've seen--yet they sure were nigh inseparable and had kids so...um...moving on...]
> 
> Still, the gist of it seems to be true: Wally's a natural, predisposed hedonist. (See the WallyWorld section of Waid's Race Through Time arch if you don't believe me. Also most any scene of him with Linda. The man is major touchyfeely.) He can also wallow in a mood with the best of them...though he manages to pick himself up sooner than most. Anyway, our loveable Flash III is big on the creature comforts. If Barry and Iris hadn't gotten to him early on, he might well have followed Pied Piper's original footsteps into villainy out of sheer boredom.)
> 
> Another funny aside: Wally West....Mae West. Lol, the names didn't hit me until I'd searched for the quote!


	18. An Interlude: John Dee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Dee was here under duress...and he's not happy about events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of an add-on character study of Dee and his reason for being included in the story. It's not vital information...more clues about what is coming in Part 2 of Child's Play.
> 
> A tease for next chapter:  
>  _The speeder eyed Dee like he'd said something truly inane. "I would have been less disappointed if you'd just straight out offered me a grave plot like I expected you to. Flash fact, Zombie Guy: Central City is my home."_  
>  _"Is it? Is it really?"_  
>  "If it isn't then I'm severely confused and out several George Washingtons because Twin Cities is where I last remember laying the discount-priced welcome mat at my front door and they had a 'no-cash returns or exchanges' policy."

 

* * *

.

[Time: an hour earlier inside the closed up Flash Museum]

The brunette man stayed just beyond The Flash's ability to note the presence of an unheralded witness to his situation. (Not that the speedster would much care right now what with his being preoccupied with Luthor.)  Another confrontation would come with the target after Luthor received his _pay_ ; there was no need to be seen by either of them as yet. In fact, being spotted observing the pair might prove detrimental to the mission. Therefore he remained in the shadow of an adjacent exhibit, watching and waiting in such absolute stony silence that any passerby seeing his lack of action (in either joining in or stopping the violence) might have misconstrued it for apathy to what was taking place in the room.

That is, if they didn't just mistake him for one of the mannequins. After all, he'd made no more motion to aid either the victim or abuser than those statues of West's predecessors that Luthor had stipulated should always be in the prey's line of sight during his 'lesson'.  Some part of West's torture no doubt.

He wasn't apathetic; Dee just thought the sex Luthor was so keen on was a waste of time.  Well, that wasn't quite the correct phrase for what was happening; however, there certainly were more important things he'd rather be doing than looking for all the world like some voyeaur satisfying a need to see one man forcibly penetrating another.

Which he was not.  Dee had no interest in perversions of homosexuality, heterosexuality, xenosexuality or _any_ kind of sex let alone watching others _doing_ it.  That unsavory vice was Luthor's predilection.

It _would_ have been an error to surmise that the watcher was utterly disinterested in the rape itself, though. Far from it. John Dee had a vested interest in how the assault affected Mister W. R. West, which was why he tolerated being here, now, keeping watch.

The umber wool-blend of his suit slid smoothly over a similar hued silk shirt as he adjusted his stance.

Something had shifted within the past second.  He could taste it like a perfumed mist in the aura of the prey.

Despair.

Just a hint stronger than before?

_Yes...yes, it was.  
_

His attention perked up a notch. _  
_

.

More minutes went by.

Dee silently continued his vigil as the speedster's body was violated in every way imaginable, keenly noting when West's wails of denial became oscillating screams of fear and rage and when those lessened in volume to exhausted and disjointed mutterings of distress. He also kept a surveillance on the amount of ichor that had been shed. There was some unavoidable blood loss as Lex liked to bite, scratch, and otherwise _play rough_ ; but J'onn was keeping the seepage to a minimum until the target's metabolism could deal with the assorted rips and ruptures of it's own accord. There was no danger the abuse would result in death as that was not allowed and he made sure to keep that fact impressed on Luthor and J'onn's subconscious as they enjoyed themselves with West's body.

Well, J'onn currently enjoyed pleasing Luthor and that anomaly was solely a construct of Doctor Destiny's deft touch for creating illusions. Even then it would not have been possible to sabotage the Martian's perceptions so completely if it hadn't been for the power source he was being allowed to tap into.

.

Keeping West alive was only one of the watcher's two top priorities. The other concern was maintaining the speedster's sanity above the brink of dementia--hence Dee's intense attention to the amount of mental as well as physical suffering West was undergoing. Luthor was closer to pushing the meta human over the edge and into insanity than even Doctor Destiny had managed.  (The self-named Doctor would be jealous if he thought besting the pathetic remnants of the once mighty League mattered anymore.) Dee did not need to intervene as yet, though, so he kept most of his main concentration on sustaining the Martian's delusion that--in assisting Luthor with humilating the speedster--J'onn was doing what was good, right, and in his _Wally's_ eventual best interest.

Which, oddly enough, it was.

Just not from The Justice League's or Flash's point of view.

_There is no lie easier to swallow than one coated in the syrup of Truth.  All you had to do was find the right flavor to add and people would swallow poison like a man downing chocolate laced arsenic.  
_

That was the beauty of it: he, John Dee, was just as much a master of manipulation as Luthor at his most Machiavellian .  One day the world would know it.

One day.

_Because he was owed that, damn it!  He was owed respect by all the twits who had ever looked down on him!_

Patience...

For now all of these various tasks required a degree of Doctor Destiny's attention, but he made sure to spare enough for the other key players of this sorry planet. It wouldn't do for the locals to regain their wits and interfere at this crucial time.

.

Not all of his observations while monitoring the rape were mundane.

There was some entertainment value to be gleaned.

By no stretch of imagination was Dee a fan of aliens let alone the one called The Martian Manhunter. As far as he was concerned (and as loathe as he was to hold anything in common with Luthor) the Earth was created for humanity and that did not include the likes of egotistical squatters such as Superman, J'onzz, Hawkgirl or any like foreign interlopers who fell out of the sky and immediatly claimed superior genes. He also held contempt for those humans who shared like minded crème de la crème attitudes such as his old boss.

_Lex Luthor, CEO of LexCorp, Mr. High & Mighty who barely even acknowledged Dee had existed within his bloated corporation until the stuffed shirt wanted something only John Dee could provide._

_(Lambskin-enclosed fists tightened. How he hated that_ Luthor _got to enjoy_ _anything let alone the work of Doctor Destiny.  He had to remind himself over and over again:  the mission took precedence over simple hates and likes.  Afterward he would receive compensation far superior than mere access to Luthor's plethora of creature comforts.  It was all just a matter of time; of patience.)_

Therefore, John Dee watched and waited---and forced himself to wait still more.

Oh, but the _need_ to torment Luthor was very strong.  He'd hated the billionaire for years. If John had his way the conceited snot would already be dead or better yet a raving lunatic strapped securely into his no-doubt aristocratic nightmares just like he'd abandoned Dee to the tender mercies of prison psychotherapists.

(What was Luthor more afraid of....being seen in an off-the-rack suit?  Having to peel his own grapes?  Or getting his skull compressed between Superman's palms?  The Doctor was curioius to find out.)

Unfortuntely, Dee was not free to discover Luthor's phobias now.  He was not acting alone--no, never _alone_ since that ill-fateful moment in the Dream Realm when _they'd_ made him an offer he literally could not refuse. He'd have to wait for _his_ payment until after _they_ had what _they_ desired from West.

Still, _still_ a cog wheel working in the background, his labor abused by others.  It was insulting.

Unfair!

Doctor Destiny was not destined to be a lackey!

But he was patient.

Very patient.

Others mistook his patience for insanity, but Dee knew his mind better than anyone.

The fact of the matter was that however much Dee might dislike the reality, it had been decided that Luthor was needed for West's sake. At this point, Wally needed Luthor to encourage West, so for now, Luthor would continue to draw breath and torment West as Wally required.

(Dee tried not to think about things along that line too closely as the fucked-up twisted path it took tended to give even him a headache.)

 .

.

The torture continued as if mere seconds had passed since the start of his ruminations. An unfortunate yet sporadic side effect of his boost in power.  Dee permitted himself a small exhalation of impatience.  He could almost sympathize with speedsters and their restless behavior.

.

Luthor was truly making the most of the concession he'd unwillingly granted the man to use The Flash's body for a short period. What Lex did not realize was that it would be a _very short period_ indeed compared to the amount of time Luthor had deluded himself into thinking he'd have West under his control. The dream master snorted softly.

West, under control?

Maybe _physically_.

 

By the shadow of Morpheus, what did it take to get The Flash to abandon hope for his future?

The hint of despair he'd felt was still there, but it had not grown in strength.

_Give up, already!  
_

Patience. _  
_

He was in danger of losing his focus and this would not do.  If he lost West now The Three would skin his soul. _  
_

.

It was regrettable that West was proving absurdly stubborn in disavowing his birthplace or his sense of _duty_ to it. Some initial resistance by the speedster had been expected, but not to _this_ degree. Really, Superman's attempt to dominate West in the Watchtower should have been enough in itself to make the panicked hero throw in the towel.  Sending him to Question to learn just how hopeless it was for him to remain had been an added incentive to come to Central City without delay. Unfotunately, then those so-called _Lords_ had entered the picture and managed to muck up Dee's work and not only delayed things, but reforged the speedster's tenacious will by bringing him back into contact with his closest allies. Normally a mass of insecurities wrapped in a false cloak of cockiness, the young male seemed to siphon off additional strength when in contact with his Batman almost as if he was another Barry Allen--another fatherly mentor to Flash--which is why Dee had lured the Dark Knight to the Lord's dimension where the nocturnal crime fighter's stabilizing influence would be out of the way. That plan had certainly backfired on Dee; yet not fatally so seeing as the Lords _had_ failed to spirit West into their own dimension. _As if that would have stopped The Three for long let alone their perceived nemesis._ At any rate their self-styled _March Hare_ would not have stood for it even if they were willing to do without West, for _he_ had developed an obsession with the latter and The Three saw fit to allow this. Again, Dee did not understand the details. (Indeed, it was all _murky_.)  One could hardly categorize his new partners as terribly sane. Since Dee was himself considered to be mentally challenged, that was saying something about The Three and their assorted lackeys.

_It didn't matter. All that mattered was survival...and survival meant pleasing his powerful 'allies' by snagging West for them even if Dee could not figure out why this speedster was so damned important.  Once he'd gleaned why, he'd fall out of sight and devise a way to come out on top of all of them no matter what fanciful names they called themselves.  
_

_Center on the moment.  
_

_.  
_

West...it had taken considerable effort, but the man-child was finally in Central City and his will power was showing cracks. Taking advantage of his fears of Lex Luthor and of being helpless in order to get West moving _would work_. Dee was positive of this strategy because his prior encounter had proven that West could not long stand to be stuck in isolation.  One way or the other he'd run---even immobilized by Luthor's office cage he'd chosen to run if only in his mind.

More like _desperate for success_ than positive of it's attainment, the chagrined Master of Dreams was loathe to admit. West might be the speedster, yet Dee was the one running out of options.

His eyes contemplated the target, now nearly unconscious yet still showing some spark of fight in him.

Which was...

_It was absurd._

When he'd first attacked the original League years ago he'd expected such willfulness from Batman, Superman, Hawk Girl, The Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, and The Martian Manhunter. The Flash?

Hardly.

Accessing Luthor's own files showed that he was supposed to have been the weakest of the seven and thus the first to cave. Instead, that had been Hawk Girl and Superman. The Martian had been his greatest nemesis---pointing the others as well as The Flash on how to save themselves; info the speedster had doggedly stuck to even when Dee had tried to derail the red-clad teen's concentration.

At least he had gotten his revenge on the alien for _that,_ for when this was finished reality was going to come crashing down on a lot of Dee's chess pieces and J'onn J'onzz worst of all. He dearly wished he would be allowed to stay long enough to enjoy the League Founder's weeping and gnashing of teeth over their actions towards The Flash: guilt over rape and attempted murder was sure to generate some delicious nightmares. Their beating themselves up about it would likely last a good long while until they eventually drowned their mass conscience into a duplicate of the Lords's: no Flash would no longer be there to offer his buoyancy.

Damn him....damn that accelerated road runner!

That character flaw of intractable _optimism_ the speed meta had so far clung to was akin to the power of a plethora of barnacles on a ship's hull--persistent no matter how many times it had been pried at. Stubborn, disobedient, unruly, obstinate, _wayward_ Wally West who had caused them so very much trouble and delay, yet who was so vital to obtain that leaving him here was unacceptable. _Truly, suffering these current violations was the red head's own fault and he deserved no sympathy on the matter as far as Dee was concerned. The idiot had only himself to blame. His plight had nothing to do with Dee. Doctor Destiny was just doing a job and had even offered an easier out. Besides, one of The Three was of the opinion that trauma was beneficial even though it meant they were forced to wait._

Dee failed to see the connection between visiting such devastation and profit. Time was money and time was being wasted. From his angle, there was only more waiting for West to capitulate and it had all started to border on _annoying_. However, even a will forged of iron would eventually give under enough heat and pressure and Luthor was showing himself a genius at utilizing both. The man did have abundant patience to draw upon. At least, more than Dee felt right now.

.

He had been given only two stipulations for fulfilling his end of the agreement:

First, Wally soul had to be intact....and second, he had to be _willing_. Dee wasn't sure why these were their rules though he figured a good guess would be that a willing captive was less likely to become a pain by rebelling against The Three later on. They had never really explained the dynamics of it. Dee was the latecomer, the outsider. Needed, but not fully trusted. Procuring West was his trial---his test of commitment to their cause--but they were still watching and listening in, ready to intervene at a second's notice. John Dee knew all too well he was just the gofer. Someone they didn't really value, but had picked up by accident and decided held some use. For that, he hated them nearly as much as he hated his old boss Lex...and he only hated Luthor more because he'd run afoul of Luthor's machinations earlier. If a first love was considered stronger than all later loves, well, it seemed it also held so for hates.

This was nonsense though. Dee realized he abhorred people for everyone was trying to use everyone else. Life was just a contest to see who got to initially stab who before the other did. What good were morals and optimism in the end? The Wally Wests were the ones who ended up used; the powerful did the using. This was the natural order of things. Doctor Destiny merely strove to gain what knowledge and power he could then get out of the way. He was a pilot fish swimming with the sharks while striving to one day be bigger than the other carnivores.

Ah...it was finished. Luthor's need to dominate was finally satiated and his victim still retained enough sanity to make a decision on the question Dee would pose. He sent a mental suggestion to Luthor that the best place to clean up in was the restroom at the _basement_ of the museum. Naturally, Lex thought it was his own idea.

_Fool._

 

.

He'd spaced out again, lost in a myraid of memories and deductions.

At least this time events had moved along .

 

_Yes...yes...c'mon, you bastard child...that's it....unravel a bit more.  
_

Through the Martian, Dee sensed that West was within a a few hairs breadth of breaking now and that was good. Flash's choices would be reduced to only two very clear paths: Luthor's property or going _Home_. After this latest corrective discipline a contrite West should surely realize his error and get back on the correct road. Then Dee could move on as well.

_Halleh-fucking-lu-yah._


	19. A Mad Tea Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally's method of coping.

 .  
  
.

* * *

 

  .

> "Insanity runs in my family.  It practically gallops."~~Cary Grant

.

* * *

.  
.  
  
Luthor had left the room a full two minutes ago to get cleaned up and J'onn was still massaging his body with way too much casual familiarty for someone with whom Wally didn't share a pre-nuptial agreement with.   Not that they didn't share some compatibility traits. Hell, it had only taken his hyper-clean cell mate 20 seconds to remove all trace of...grime...from it.  
  
 _It?_   Since when had he referred to his body in terms of an it?  
  
Well, a sardonic Wally mused, it technically wasn't actually his body anymore, was it? _It_ was Luthor's.  
  
So in reality it was a lump of carbon utilized by J'onn in order to make out with his god Luthor via the said lump thing that kind of resembled Wally West a.k.a The Flash once upon a time before someone noticed the Adult Toy Store price sticker on his bum.  
  
   
  
Yeah...like he was going to ever accept that idea.  
  
Luthor was wrong--dead wrong! The only child of Mary and Rudolph West wasn't some sort of male whore who 'got his jollies' by indulging his hyper senses or prostituting himself for acceptance.  
  
Sure he enjoyed eating quantities of good food and drink, dancing to exuberant music pounding against his skin; was sort of a tactile kind of guy who relished tickle wars and vigorous hugs, the thrum of a good laugh warming his insides, and---once he got over the initial shyness---a good foot massage.  
  
Okay, running faster than the speed of sound was like having pure euphoria coursing through his veins and at times he had to force himself to slow down. It wasn't a crime to like to feel things--intensely feel them---because the world was so boring it took forever to say anything of importance to one of his enhanced velocity seeing as his nerve electrons traveled so much faster than ordinary thoughts did; but he didn't...and it wasn't like...so...  
  
He _wasn't!_ Wasn'twasn'twasn'twasn't--!  
  
 _"Relax, Wallace....mental stress is not good for you.  You should stop thinking for now."_  
  
"Just because you're my anal, psycho, jailer/snitch/chambermaid/masseur, J'onn, doesn't give you the right to psychoanalyze me."  
  
J'onn's response to his snippy reply was to start caressing him like a lover.  
  
A lover with a certified foot fetish.  
  
All thoughts and fears commenced fading into a happy buzz for a whole few seconds before Wally remembered he was supposed to be traumatized and righteously pissed and responding to blatant sensory bliss like this despite being traumatized and thoroughly pissed was just wrong and rather contradictory to his thoughts of denial!  
  
Yet he couldn't help succumbing to the comfort and...and...  
  
'...'  
  
Oh, dear gods of all fast food franchises with secret recipe fatty sauces...he _was_ addicted to sensuality.  
  
The realization was enough to pull him right out of his state of pleasure...and smack into one of thinking more on what Luthor had said.  
  
 _Crap._  
  
.  
  
"Uncle Barry?"  Wally's question was more of a whimpering sound in his mind as he looked everywhere but straight ahead.

This was pathetic. Never before had he been unable to look even a molded resin likeness of his mentor in the eye.  Nor did he actually expect it to reply to his questions even if he could get his thoughts properly lined up to sashay out of his mouth in the correct order and ask:  
  
 _"What had you really thought of Kid Flash and his attempts to stay true to The Flash's Awesomeness?_

_Did you put up with the explosively hormonal teen just for Aunt Iris's sake? Had she begged white-picket-fence values Barry Allen to overlook her nephew's abundant faults and fetishes hoping that her staid and solid beau would fix the budding hedonist before he became just as much a liability to the family name as the self-centered father had been?"_  
  
Maybe he hadn't been so far off with the idea of some sort of unique speedster pheromones driving previously sane aliens like Clark into mindless mating frenzies. Superman undoubtedly had a super nose with super sniffing qualities just like everything else attached to the Kryptonian--in fact, Wally would bet on it.

Green Lantern was human; however, John had his Oa power ring to augment and relay information to and from his brain so he was almost an alien.

Batman didn't have alien anything as far as Wally knew, but The Dark Knight had honed his senses to human-level perfection for the cause of fighting criminals. In his line of work he needed an excellent sense of smell in dealing with chemicals from poisons to other incriminating odors. Bats therefore had to have a good sniffer. That would explain Other Bats infatuation, wouldn't it?  
  
Yet his Bats and Question had seemed immune enough. Neither had touched him that way.  
  
But did that prove Luthor wrong...or just Wally's pheromone theory? Maybe Vic and Bruce secretly despised him so much it overruled other factors like a hypotheized Flash Frangrance, thereby rendering his chemical 'come hithers' ineffective?  
  
 _Batman...and Question were dead because of him._  
  
No...they...  
  
Batman was like the Six Million Dollar Man of the non-metas (only more in the line of Six Billion Big Ones as TV character Steve Austin had been before inflationary dollars.) The Dark Knight was as if the gods had decided to take a mortal man and make him better than he was before---better, faster, stronger. Fictional astronaut Steve Austin had nothing on the reality of Bruce Wayne/Batman.  
  
Not that Bats had been as fast as the Fastest Man Alive, but he could sure disappear quicker than Dr. Fate when he wanted to. Wally had tried so hard to get Batman to like him before he'd figured out that Batman's heart was coveted by Diana and that Flash really did make Batman nervous.  It figured he needed Luthor to spell it out to discover the reason why Batman habitually stiffened (except where it mattered) when Wally started chattering on about something he found amusing. (Well, maybe not so much nervous, but more wary...on alert.) Of course...Wally was just too unpredictable for Bruce who liked everything neatly slotted into sized-up electronic data. In that way, Wally must have seemed to Bruce as something of a mild-scale virus bomb capable of exploding at inopportune times. This was the main reason why Wally had never actively pursued Bruce and was content to see him eventually gain happiness with Wonder Woman: when you loved someone, you wanted them to be happy even if it wasn't with you.  
  
 _So much for that._  
  
   
  
Question was...  
  
Okay, the guy was so weird he made Plastic Man seem emotionally well adjusted. Still, he was a good version of weird. He'd looked out for Wally even though he didn't have to...eh, beyond the compulsary uncover the conspiracy encircling the speedster thing. Still, Vic had cared enough to take him into his apartment despite the Have You Seen This Speedster?  wanted posters and his girlfriend's doubts. If Vic wasn't being actively pursued by Huntress, Wally might have hinted he was open to a little more internal investigations...  
  
   
  
 _Jeezus!_  
  
   
  
They'd both _died_ trying to help him. Would they have bothered if they'd known he was a carnality junkie who couldn't even mourn them properly without thinking about missed relationship opportunities?  
  
Seriously, they should lock him up with the other loonies or something.  
  
Oh...  
  
Yeah.  
  
His life was a fucking movie. 

 

   
 _How Green Was My Prison_  


_Starring Wallace Rudolph West._

_The sordid tale of a Welsh descendant's family that was broken up when the promising youngest was thrown into Jail-O for having held a one-sided mental affair with darn near anyone with legs and secret identities.  Rated M-17 for themes of Sex and Violence_

  
 

If only he was still a minor and thus would be banned from seeing his own life story as it was unfolded.

Fuckfuckfuck!

And...fuck.

Even his cursing was being perverted by his damned overcharged hormones.

His head hurt, his thoughts were bouncing everywhere, he couldn't think straight, he wanted out, he wanted to run, he wanted to be cuddled until everything--everything--just went away and he was being cuddled---had he already thought that?---and soothed...J'onn was like being back in a womb all safe and comfy....J'onn wanted to help him feel good...He wanted J'onn to help him feel good again...he wanted to really feel good by being fucked by Lu--"

Hold on.

 

Wally reached up to grab fistfuls of his hair and give it a harsh tug in response to the revulsion he felt towards his own indecent feelings and how easily J'onn was pulling them out of him while in the process warping them into pretzel shapes with apparently very little effort. The jelly he was in instantly solidified around his hands, rendering them harmless. A few tears of frustration made their way down towards his chin, only to be swiped up half way down by J'onn's molecular...jelly.

Don't even think about this as anything but some innocuous form of jelly. Not food-grade jelly either(yuck!), but some sort of petroleum kind...like mechanics used on...on....moving parts....like...

_"Gelled lubrication used on genitals prior to facilitate pleasurable fucking--"_

"Marvin, would you freaking stop messing with my head and I mean that in multiple ways," the overwrought speedster grumbled in irritation. It was hard to remember just now when he really wanted to be alone in his misery that J'onn was as much a victim in this insanity as he was--especially since the Martian sounded so normal while not actively helping Luthor to fuck him over.

 

Ah.

How stupid of him.

 

"J'onn," Wally huffed through gritted teeth, "I get it, you're trying to be all Martiany subtle and make it seem like its my idea to get all hot and bothered, but I'm on to you now and crass vulgarity isn't you.  If this sudden inserting of that word into my thoughts doesn't stop-"

_"Wallace, your punishment--though warranted--caused much damage.  I find this distressing.  However, if your own vocabulary is upsetting to you, I will endeavor not to use it.  I will rephrase in my own way._

_These injuries on your person should be tended before our god wishes to rhymically penetrate your anal cavity with his phallic organ and stimulate your prostrate so that you ... "_

"J'onn--!  Oh, for fu.... (Damn it.)  LalalalalalalalalalalalaIcan'thearyoulalalalalala--"

_"...loose mental control and scream in an octave more commonly found in your species female..."_

"Lalalalala....hey, I do not scream like a girl."

_"You may be correct.  Black Canary does possess a stronger alto range."_

"Oh, that's just so much bullshit!  My voice is plenty manly.

Know what?  You win.  Go back to scraping my brain for slang like the word 'fuck; just leave my remaining sense of masculinity the hell alone.  Also, stop referring to Luthor as a god."

_"But he is a god, Wallace.  He is the Earthen god of science, intelligence, charisma, and benevolence."_

"So not helping my budding nausea, J'onn.  Honestly, what happened to making my welfare your second top priority over spit shining Baldy's ego?"

_"I am as vigilant over your well being as ever."_

"Then I'm supposedly pretty safe so how about letting go of my hands?  They're going numb."

_"You were in danger of pulling out perfectly healthy follicles.  Lord-master Luthor likes your hair as it is."_

"I'm chuffed about that.  Really."

Not.

_"No, you are not."_

"Okay," Wally agreed, "I'm not proud at all.  Still, I promise I'll not risk going bald because nobody wants to look like Mr. Corporation Chrome Dome."

 

J'onn must have sensed his sincerity that time because the jelly over his fingers melted.  Wally tried flexing them before letting his arms down.  Thankfully the pins and needles went away pretty fast.  
 

_"Wallace, I am sad to say that much of your pain over the last day is your own doing.  I can help you heal faster by stimulating your blood flow, but your attitude needs improving. Studies verify that sadness affects your health and invokes suicidal urges. You're sudden desires to injure yourself and to avoid healing proves that these medical theories have value."_

Yeah, Wally knew that, but he still wasn't exactly in any hurry to get healed and his blood certainly did not need any added incentive to flow. What for? What did he have to live for? There was no way he was going to get out of this one. There was no League; his allies were dead. The only way he could even remotely escape from J'onn was to make him hopelessly confused and in that moment vibrate like mad. Such a tactic could cause J'onn to explode if it even worked at all. He wasn't going to be directly responsible for J'onn's death. The world was mad and he along with it, but Wally wasn't going to let what remained of his civility surf that far down the slippery slope.  The thought of killing the normally gentle alien was sickening.

_"Why, thank you, Wallace.  That is rather considerate."_

"Don't push my resolve, Marvin.  Slippery slopes are reknowned for being slip and fall hazards and even Flash Civility is feeling kind of dizzly sickened by you."

His whole world could be boiled down to that one nine-letter word: _sickening_. Actually, shitty was even shorter, but that one implied bowels--

_Whoop!  Whoop! RedAlert!RedAlert! All brain cells, this is Captain Wally speaking.  We are under attack by The Evil Empire!  Power up Distracted Thinking batteries!  Fire when ready, Mr. Sushi!_

Batman...the Question....gone. The Flash was alone without a single friend, just a bunch of--literally--fucking enemies who were determined to make him into one of those Stockholm Syndrome cases where the victim grew to love the victimizer; and, fuck, he hated Luthor, but what if they made him come to want and love the bast--?

_Sair! Distracted Thinking barrage had no effect on the enemy!_

_Yes, Mr. Scotch, I had noticed.  
_

J'onn's voice mused in his head, _"_ _You self-insertion yourself into pop culture shows."  
_

_So has the enemy--Mr. Sushi, full reverse half a parsec.  Warp factor four.  
_

_"We didn't know you were fond of outdated science fantasy TV programs.  Lord-Master is curious about this."  
_

"It's not _outdated_ ," Wally protested, "it's classic." _  
_

_"Yet you have changed the names of the characters.  Lord-Master wishes to know if you have forgotten the respective names or are afraid of facing even that much of reality?"_

"I can quote entire episodes by heart.  Wanna play a game of cards?"

_"Pardon?"_

The speedster grinned, intentionally throwing his mental process into high gear.  Maybe J'onn was able to keep up with him now that they were linked....but that didn't necessarily mean that J'onn could _keep up with him!_

"On, eh, Beta Antares IV, they play a real game. It's a human's game, but, of course, probably a little beyond you. It requires intelligence.  The name of the game is called, uh... fizzbin."

  
_" Wallace, when did you visit Beta Antares IV?  I do not recall any missions to that star system."_

  
"Hitched a ride with John when you were...incapacitated.   Now this game...Fizzbin. It's, uh... not too difficult."

  
_"I do not believe I am familiar with it."_

  
"Don't fret, I'll take it slow.

Each player gets six cards, except for the dealer, eh, the player on the dealer's right, who, eh, gets seven."

  
_"On the right?"_

  
"Yep. The second card is turned up, except on Tuesday."

  
_"Tuesday?"_

  
"Mm-hmm...isthereanecho?  Say I deal you two jacks.  You got a half fizzbin already!"

  
_" I then need another jack."_

  
"No, no. If you got another jack, why, you'd have, eh, a sralk."

  
_"A sralk?"_

  
"Yes. You'd be disqualified."

  
_"Oh."_

  
"Yeah.  No, what you need now, is either a king and a deuce, except at night, of course, when you'd need a queen and a four."

  
_"Except at night?"_

  
"Right. Oh, look at that. You've got another jack!

  
_"I have?"_

  
"I just dealt you one.  Get with the program, J'onn.

  
How lucky you are! How wonderful for you. Now, if you didn't get another jack, if you'd gotten a king, why, then, you'd get another card, except when it's dark, when you'd have to give it back."

  
_"If it were dark on Tuesday?"_

  
"Yes, but what you're after is a royal fizzbin, but the odds in getting a royal fizzbin are astronomical."

"This game...  Wallace, I am getting an inkling that this game is pure fabrication.  You are lying to me."

 

"That's harsh and it's not pure fabrication...its a classic game beloved by Trekkies.  We a semi-borderline insane nerds in denial.  I'ts part of our charm."

_"I am not certain that makes sense."_

"Well, no duh.  I'm channeling the captain of a starship.  I grok Kirk. Being rash and bombastic is my job.  If I made sense I'd be alien, green, and the one wearing the pointed ears."

_"Ears?"_ The Martian sounded utterly confused.

"You really should have that echo looked into."

 

Score one for the red head.

As a bonus, the massage had stopped.

 

 

Okay, the teasing of a befuddled J'onn aside this was depressing and getting him nowhere at a snail's pace. Time to think about something useful and safe and preferably without any unecessary sexual epithets attached.

Like a plan. Escape plans were good. Great mental exercise to be had there.

 

Five minutes later the speedster sighed in resignation.

_Captain, I regret to inform you that our tactical computer is frozen due to the cheap software you picked up when God was handing out I.Q. points on Rigelus III.  Lack of adeuate anti-marvinware has rendered it useless against enemy eraser fire.  
_

 

It was hard to come up with an idea with J'onn The Traitor in his head unabashedly shooting them down.

_"Wallace?"_

_Lt. Yoohoo, block that transmission.  
_

_Apologies for disrupting your space fantasy, Wallace.  However, I feel I must point out that our god Luthor is much smarter than you so all of this planning is rather without purpose.  Would you not rather I invoked Tahiti Paradise II for you?  I can insert Luthor's face onto your beach play mates so that you can remain faithful to him."_

"Seriously, J'onn, my moral civility is loosing traction from all the sewage your mind is chucking about.  Continue littering the mental landscape and the sanctity of Tahiti Paradise this way and I swear I _will_ hurt you."

_Mr. Spam, prepare to detonate the doesn't-matter engines on my command._

_Captain?_

_Make it so.  
_

.

The rotten thing about escape plans is that you had to have something to work with. (Revenge fantasies aside, what did he have to work with that didn't involve putting J'onn in danger? Wally didn't even have a say over his own body. Sure, he knew Dee had wireless remote control over J'onn, but just where Dee was skulking, Wally hadn't a clue (unless The Dream Despot had come with Luthor to commune with the museum's Rogues Gallery section?) It wasn't like Wally could go searching for Dee unless he could convince J'onn to form into some sort of hamster ball so he could roll around like a happy rodent while exploring the area.

_"Wallace, I must reiterate that thinking pessimistic thoughts will only prolong your time as damaged. Lord-master Luthor would not be pleased by this as he wishes to pleasure himself again as soon as possible. He has informed me you are penciled in for the after dinner hour._

_What is a hamster ball? Oh...I see. Interesting idea."_

"Thanks for The Flash News & Coming Social Events bulletin, J'onn. I feel so much more upbeat now."

_"You are very welcome, Wallace. I am happy to have served you."_

"Sarcasm, J'onn.  Don't go expecting a tip." _  
_

.

.

The minutes ticked by.

_Bored._

Wally sighed heavily and idly wondered just how long it would be before his skin took on the appearance of a prune from being immersed in J'onn Juice for extended periods. Then he'd look like some sort of relative of that Dark Knight rogue.

Son of Pruneface?

Nah.

But...

Maybe Luthor would be so stunned by his wrinkled appearance he could get an attack move in before Lex knew what hit him?

Ah hah!

The prisoner started making slow swimming motions with his limbs while experimentally humming the opening sounds of Jaws mixed with I Heard It Through The Grapevine as sung by the California Raisins.  He was in midstroke when the damnable massages started up again.  Shrugging, he resumed his 'swimming'.

_Wallace, what are you doing?_

"The Great White Raisin."

_"I am sorry?"_

Wally let a small smile grace his face, but there was no actual mirth behind the tightened facial muscles.  "My impression of a sun-dried, liquid-dwelling man eater."  As the speedster rather predicted, J'onn sounded confused by his answer.

_"Wallace, I don't believe Aquaman has ever mentioned such an incongruous creature existing in his kingdom. In fact, how is it possible to be sun dried and a liquid dweller? Are you feeling ill?"_

The speedster considered that possibly the worst thing about this captivity gig besides Luthor was that his wit and sarcasm were totally wasted on his main companion.

_"This is another fiction like Fizzbin?"_

"Really, J'onn, can't you see I'm happily engaged in aerobic skinny dipping?  Where is your sense of decency?  Go away."

_"I am sorry; you know I can not do that, Wallace. It is my job--"_

"--to watch over The Flash collectible figure and keep it in mint condition for the master," an exasperated Wally finished for him. He stopped his 'shark swim exercise'. _So much for getting a few moments of distracting fun in to help save his sanity._ "I meant, I want some quiet. At the very least, quit calling me Wallace so much, _J'onn_. You sound like my old spinster of a school marm--the one who looked more like toothless cousin Mathew than cousin Mathew did."

The massage had stopped.

Instead of relief, th speedster felt a bit of guilt creep in imagining how J'onn would feel if he knew how he was being used. It hadn't been all that long ago that Wally had been made a monkey of by an ape; he could personally testify that it wasn't fun waking up to find out he'd been an accomplice to a series of robberies.

"Oh hell...sorry about the school marm crack, J'onn. I know it's not your fault Dee got into your head and pureed it."  A burst of real irritation broke through his attempts to tamp it down, "but hell all in the chicken coop, I can't help but feel you could have tried harder to stop acting like a movie Martian space invader---my _personal space_ invader!"

_Damn J'onzz for not being the perfect hero when I need one! I bet if I was Wonder Woman in jeopardy there would be superheroes falling all over themselves to rescue me!_

Urgh...so much for remorse. He was just the picture of Ghandi-style calm today, wasn't he? Not even a day gone by and he was already coming unglued and wanting to kick someone's custom tailored suit ass.

"Okay, maybe I'm not as sorry about the toothless spinster dig as I wanted to be. Look, do whatever the hell you want, J'onn. Not like I can stop you. Read my friggin thoughts. Get a blast playing Dress-Up The Living Wally Doll. Go waltzing around the floor with the fully-jointed LexCorp toy. Knock yourself out."

He waited for the tolerant and disgustingly polite rebuff to his tantrum.

There was none. Neither was there any movement of Martian marinade against his skin.  Wally frowned as all this sudden neglect was out-of-step with J'onzz new behavior in the world's Age of Lex Lunacy.

"J'onn? Don't tell me you took that 'knock yourself out' suggestion literally? And if you did, how the heck did you manage it being as you're currently a great big green slime monster?"

Silence.

"J'onn, I hear the lord-master is planning to ban Oreos. Want to start a sit-in protest?"

Still nothing.

Right. Okay, so he had asked for silence and J'onn was just an amoeba-shaped port-a-prison right now who he was kind of ticked off at; but the guy/alien/shapeless mass was still a friend under that Luthor-groupie personality reboot. Wally couldn't help but feel worried for J'onn. Had the conflict between his morals and Dee's manipulations fried the alien's brain?

Maybe he was asleep?

Getting back at Wally for being a pest?

Scaring the daylights out of him?

 

"C'mon, J'onn, this isn't funny."

From right behind him came a sepulchare voice unlike anything Wally had ever heard the Martain use.

"J'onn J'onzz has felt the need to take an unscheduled nap."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The card game scene is practically word for word taken from A Piece Of The Action, arguably the funniest Star Trek Classic episode in existence (bar The Trouble With Tribbles.)
> 
> It really is difficult to keep that mix of optimism and gallow's humor here. The character (as written by Messner-Loeb and Mark Waid) had a curious blend of "I am so screwed" at pretty much the same time as he was "I'm going to pull this off...somehow."  
> This was more obvious in those early years when Wally West was still comparing himself to Barry Allen's shadow and wincing over the size of those yellow boots people expected him to fit (or didn't as the case may be.)  
> Btw, DC just cancelled the printing of a paperback trade that featured early Impulse stories. I'm a bit pissed right now. Sure they are on digital, but I like owning rather than merely renting loved stories. Besides, Impulse just came out in Young Justice. Sure they plan on cancelling that too, but how the heck do they expect to keep those new fans with just digital? No accessible toys, no figures, no books....argh. Batman gets all the love.


	20. To Be Or Not To Be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash believes in optimism. He has his personal grumbles with Life, but on the whole things had always worked out for him.  
> At least until now.  
> Regardless of the fickleness of fate or fortune, Wally West is a hero and that's the bottom line. The one he won't sink under no matter how tired he is.  
> Still...  
> Sometimes the only way to be a hero is to take off the rose-colored glasses and face facts:  
> When all is said and done, optimists and pessimists share the same destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE YOU READ:  
> You may want to go back and check to see if you read 19. I accidentally hit the post option on the 12th. Deleted it right away, but when I actually posted chapter 19 on the 14th of January the site insisted it had been posed on the 12th and I can't seem to fix that error.
> 
> Warning to pay attention when clicking editor buttons in the future. Wish they'd change the color or shape of those buttons.

* * *

.

"I'm not done yet. I mean, I'm not at the finish line, but I can see it from here. The race'll be over soon..." ~~Wally West, The Flash #230

.

* * *

.

That voice...sounded vaguely familiar.

An _unpleasant_ familiarity.

Wally raise his head just enough to see who had spoken.

It was the man from the plaza. The one Wally'd dubbed Luthor's Brown Man or Zombie Guy (hadn't really had a chance to settle on nickname before he'd got conked on the head and other matters had started pressing for his attention.

Looks like their delayed matter was due for a revisit.

This was almost certainly a 'bad guy' if he collected pay from Luthor, only how bad of one?  A mere flunky or a co-conspirator evil genius type?  One with maybe a shred of decency or no?  Dangerous as a yipping puppy defending its rubber bone or a possessed Krypto on the attack?

Unknown quality.

Unpredictable.

He could almost hear Batman whispering in his ear not to do anything foolish.....at least not until he had more data to work with.  No point in riling up a possibly sleeping tiger.

 

"Oh, it's _the ghoul_ ," Wally flippantly acknowledged his visitor.  (Because, you know, since when had he always followed Batman's advice?)  The speedster carefully modulated his next words with something between caution and mocking apathy, "I'd thought by now you'd have returned to whatever horror movie set you'd escaped from. Obviously a low budget one going by the makeup.  Freshman college theater project?  Or is LexCorp doing a hiring film?  Must be hard to contain turnover when the boss is a lunatic where 'job termination' takes on a whole new meaning.  Got to keep the fresh meat filling those cubicles though, huh?"

The Ghoul frowned while Wally scratched the back of his neck.

Mentally donning his usual Cloak of Cluelessness, the speedster plowed ahead.

"So J'onn's asleep?" He made a 'patting' gesture'.  "Poor thing. Must have been exhausted with all the overtime. Or are you saying I bored him into somnolence because even I don't normally fall asleep that fast--except maybe while on monitor duty. You have no idea how boring monitor duty can be.  Really, it's pretty boring so I try to catch naps during most of it.  Of course, at worst I only had to worry about pissing off Bats...J'onn's got his lord-master Luthor to yell at him for slacking off."

He smiled rather brightly, practically radiating _I'm Flash, I'm Stupid...Go Ahead, Underestimate Me!_ vibes.  If luck was kind, the thug was misinformed enough to think him relatively harmless maybe he'd make a mistake and...

"You need not bother speaking your thoughts as right now the Martian is not filtering your air as well as when he's awake. I can hear them just fine in your head. Save your oxygen levels."

Ah huh.  Looked like Lady Luck was still pissed off at him.

Pissed, and seeking revenge for some past slight because wasn't that just _the be all_ he needed to deal with, another telepathic leech?

Wally's eyes narrowed to slits. "Oh spiffy," he drew each syllable, "then we can close this little chat forum that much faster."

"The blame for J'onzz sudden silence is mine. People don't normally ignore my suggestions," the man smiled at him, apparently unconcerned that it never reached his dulled eyes.

"And that would be because...?" the annoyed speedster prompted. He really wasn't thrilled at the prospect of conversing with a zombie, but it was still preferable to whatever further bile Luthor might have to spew. Besides, Wally was pretty sure he knew who this was and he had a bone to pick.

"I am known as John Dee.  You may remember me as Doctor Destiny."

"Oh, I remember, all right."  Wally snorted to show his contempt,"Just didn't recognize you what with all the recent weight gain. Been overindulging in the prison pastries much?  Yeah, sure you're double D.  You'll excuse me if I'm a tad skeptical.  Got any identification?"

"You hoped for the Swedish Bikini Team to appear in your dream."

"Old news.  Luthor could have slipped you that little tidbit as could have J'onn.  Hell, half the League and all the Rogues could have made a good guess on it.  Try giving yourself a swift kick to the head; maybe that will start your brain or whosever's brain you keep up in that skull, Zombie Boy."

"Then here's something just between us:  a giant frog in the refrigerator nearly ate you.  Your adoring children playmates also wanted to take a bite.  One did.  Then while speaking to me you tried to answer a public phone box.  That didn't work out."

"It was probably a collect call anyway.  You left out the best part though.  As I recall, our little dance ended with me giving you a heck of a stubbed toe."  He grinned.

Dee continued to stare at him.

"Huh... Well, the blank look and dour demeanor fits.  Guess your I.D. checks out despite the lousy likeness.  We'll just blame the photographer who took your prison photo.  Okay, I'm game."  Wally drummed his fingers against his arms.  "So...Doctor Desiccated...real deal in the flesh, huh? Then you can give J'onn a doctor's note to slip to Cueball. Really, though, the dead look is not much of an improvement from the Reaper one. Have you never tried one of those energy drinks? I mean, check the mirror lately? Sleepy-Eye the Zombie Guy as a name tag suits you better.  Make that a toe tag because...honestly, you don't look so swell despite the salon treatment."

"I prefer to be addressed as The Master of Dreams...as you, Wallace Rudolph West, prefer to be called The Flash. The Fastest Man Alive. The Scarlet Speedster. The One Who Rides The Lightning."

"Wow, someone took time out to peruse my unauthorized bio in the museum book section. Trying to say you're really a closet Flash fan, Dee Dee? Am I supposed to be all giggly by your interest in me? I mean, c'mon, a real fan would have been trying to shove an autograph book and pen through the Martian Manhunter by now.  Which would be interesting to try.  I wonder if a gel point would work in here?"

John Dee did not appear to be amused. In fact, quite the opposite. "A Flash fan? No. Though I concede that you are clearly not a common man--which is why I am bothering to give you my time."

"Well, sure I'm not _common_. How many regular people get their picture on the front page as often as I do and for such a variety of reasons? Granted, I'm not at my best dressed just now--I cut a much more dashing figure in scarlet spandex than in mint slushie. Green slime just screams Swamp Thing, in my opinion. Now red, that's the hue for speedsters; and spandex? Most guys can't pull off full body spandex without resorting to distractions like utility belts and capes. I mean, when was the last time you saw Batman without that copious black curtain surrounding him? I tell you, he's clearly hiding something under there. Come to think of it--as Doctor Destiny--you've not only got the cape but even sprung for the matching hood ensemble. But then I guess if my alter ego could be mistaken for a chiropractic prop, I'd be accessorizing with a security blanket too. However, me...I don't need any of that. I watch what I eat and work out regularly. You should try it---but not that Anorexia Bare-Bones Diet you were on before. In fact, I'd let you borrow my personal trainer, doctor, and gym room here, but I have a feeling he's under exclusive contract."

"Isn't red one of the slower frequencies?" Dee couldn't help but feel smug.  He smiled....just a tiny bit..over being smarter than a meta.  "Hardly a true representation for one of your...mental capacity."

"Are you kidding?  Crimson is best buddies close to the thermals and microwaves.  Warmth, that's me. Micowaves?  Microwave ovens are downright sacred.  Besides, red is the official color of the most reknowned speedster of all time..." Wally leaned in close as if divulging a state secret, "...Santa Claus.  Nobody diss's the Red unless they're into coal futures.  Mark yourself as warned.  Granted, it's probably too late for you to land in the Good List this year, but there's always next Christmas."  Having done his Good Samaritan deed for the day, Wally straightened back up.

Dee considered the captive for long seconds. Unbelievably--despite everything he'd just been through--the man was still cheerfully loquacious. What did it take to keep him down for more than fifteen minutes? Internally, he sighed. Outwardly, his expression remained the same.

_His reward had better be spectacular for having to put up with this._

"My offer to you still stands."

Now it was the red head's turn to stare.

"Notice the green pickle juice jar I'm in?" Wally asked, gesturing at his surroundings.  The energetic movements caused J'onn's body to ripple slightly.  "Yeah...'kay.  Make that the pickle juice _zip lock_ _baggie_.  The one with no expiration date stamped on it?"  It took a couple of seconds for Dee to figure out what he meant.

"Yep, that's right, Dead-Eye.  Apparently Martian juice has a shelf life that's longer than Hostess Twinkie's.  Plus, J'onn had a thing for Oreos and...well, 'you are what you eat' probably applies.  I don't think I'm going to be let go anytime soon."

"I can rescue you from this...pickle juice. The arena of the mind is my specialty. I am controlling J'onn. I can also control Luthor and his guards. You can walk out of here and never see Lex Luthor again."  The speedster scoffed at him, waggling a reproachful finger.

"This is why experienced zombies go for the actual brain mass--more nutrition there than in mere metaphysical mental snacks like dreams---hey, M&M's, I made a funny! But seriously, you let me go, Luthor tracks me again, I'm recaptured because I've nowhere to really crash what with being a _wanted poster_ Flash (for going over some speed limit and all.) Only question is what do you get out of my trying? Some sort of bounty reward? A free mattress set and bonus pair of jammies?  Tickets to The Grateful Dead?"

"You would prefer to stay and wait patiently for Luthor to return? Possibly more than any one alive, you know that Lex has an agile imagination. I wonder...what torments will he devise to put you through a year from now?" Dee's eyes glittered when a shudder went through the prisoner, causing little waves to ripple through the sleeping J'onn. "I am offering you more than a rescue from here." West continued to look skeptical, but also nearly at the end of his rope. "Something better. A somewhere. A safe haven."

"This is sounding more and more like an infomercial," Wally laughed, but his usual boisterousness sounded strangled. (Another year inside J'onn...owned by Luthor. Hell, he'd be insane within the first week with days to spare.) "So, Johnny the Zombie, say I'm so bored that I'm actually going to act like I'm interested.  What exactly are you selling? Time shares? Resort living? Condo? Trailer Park? What are the five easy payments plus shipping and handling? Just where do I go to be safe?"

"Home."

Silence fell again.

The speeder eyed Dee like he'd said something truly inane....in Dr. Seuss-style verse...while dressed in a flaming pink tutu. "That's it?  That's the best you can come up with?  I would have been less disappointed if you'd just straight out offered me a grave plot like I expected you to. Flash fact, Zombie Guy: Central City _is_ my home."

"Is it? Is it really?"

"If it isn't then I'm severely confused and out several George Washingtons because Twin Cities is where I last remember laying the discount-priced welcome mat at my front door and they had a pretty firm 'no-cash returns or exchanges' policy."

Without warning, J'onn's mass hardened around Wally's limbs.  Dee reached into Wally's living prison and pulled his head free by the scalp, forcing a grimacing West to look directly into his face.

"Hey, hey, the hair comes as part of a set, you ass!  So you were pawned off a fake map for Homes of Superheroes & Other Famous Celebrities.  Don't get hissy with me about it."

"You have deluded yourself that this chunk of decaying construction materials is Home?  Then let us refresh your memory."

"My memory is fine and dandy which is more than I can say for..."

Dee's deadened eyes flickered at high speed, energy growing from within the earthen depths like a storm rapidly building over a desert's horizon. The awakened orbs practically crackled with thunder. The strange sight ensnared Wally's own forested gaze. His eyes widened with awe at the controlled energy and with the realization that what he'd thought was thunder were actually...voices. They filled his mind, chanting his name mixed with esoteric concepts with such intensity it put the Justice League's Wayne Tech audiophile sound system to shame.

He couldn't grasp it all.

_"WALLYWallyWallyWALLYWALLYCOME..COME....COME...HOME-IS-SAFETY-WITHOUT-PERSECUTION. _WALLYWallyWallyWALLYWALLYCOME..COME....COME..._ HOME-IS-BELONGING-WITHOUT..JUSTIFYING, WALLY... wally?  HOME-IS-ACCEPTANCE-WITHOUT-CRITICISM.  _WALLYWallyWallyWALLYWALLYCOME..COME....COME..._ HOME-IS-WANTED-WITHOUT-RESERVATION.HOME-IS-NEVER-ALONE.  HOME-IS wallyhelpRememberRiver! FOREVER."_

The voices went silent, but to Wally their imprint was still in his mind, calling to him.

_HOME IS WALLY..._

_.  
_

He was shaking.  Why was he shaking?

Why?

"H-ho-me?" he stuttered.

" _That_ was Home," Dee informed him, "where you should be."

"Home...home is where the heart is," Wally whispered, looking for all the world like he'd forgotten the other man was even there..."seen by the eyes of the blind...in the middle of the night...cross the River of Dreams."

Dee's mouth quirked into a fraudulent smile, though his eyes momentarily held confusion.

What was this nonsense about the river? John had never heard the Missouri called by that term, but then he wasn't a native of this part of the country.  Chances were it was a local expression, one to be dismissed as just further nonsensical ravings by the boy's stressed mind.

It was time to reel West into the trap; although truth be told, the speedster already looked spellbound.

"It's waiting for you, Flash. It's been waiting for you a long time."

"A year," Wally agreed in a faraway voice, responding as if his mind was half caught in one of Doctor Destiny's phantasmagorical images. "I'm needed at the del...?" His voice cut off as the word he was about to recall disappeared from his memory--as if it was never there.

Dee's face again flashed a puzzled frown, but if he was surprised by that cryptic reply, he showed no other sign of it. As far as he knew they had not been active of this place for a full Earth year.  Perhaps The Three had started this campaign that long ago?  It wasn't like they would have confided in him about it. He nodded. "Yes, you are needed there. Wallace Rudolph West, chosen of The Speed Force....Will you go Home?" He stepped back, creating an opening in the amoeba so as to allow the speedster access to follow him.

"W-What?"

Wally blinked and pulled back a bit, ignoring the opening of his prison; not bothering to hide that he was disturbed that the man standing before him might just be a worse threat than Luthor. Sure, Dee's eyes was normal again. That was to say, they were devoid of the energy that called to him, but this was not reassuring.

"What?"

 

He'd been...caught in a siren's song.

_Had to be fake._

_Nothing that powerful..._

_It couldn't be real._

_Oh for crying..._

_A trick.  
_

_Damned, dirty...  
_

"Fuck you, you, cretin!  What was that?" Wally hotly demanded. "Let me guess. Mirror Master lent you his tricks?  Illusions and mirrors?"  He glanced around, furious and half expecting to find the Rogue laughing at him from some reflected surface.  "None of this is real, is itl?  All a mirror world creation of a 2-bit hack who can't face reality head on--

Or is it Abracadabra?  C'mon, don't be shy!  I know how much your type likes to gloat!  Get out here and take your bow!"

Neither of his old enemies appeared.

There was no one to claim credit for fooling The Fastest Man Alive.

No one save J'onn and Dee...the latter who was considering him closely.

"No trick.  No Mirror Master. I told you. It was Home. Your Home."

 It had to be fake vision.  What _else_ could it be?

Well, there was _that_.

Yet Wally's family was gone.  Nobody else alive knew about it save for the Founders and they less of an understanding of it then Wally did.

"Home..."

_Home_...as in _capitalized_ like it was more than just an abode made of brick or dry wall...something greater...permanent.

The blood drained from his face.

Death.

 

 

* * *

 

_Death._

_Home was death and the hereafter.  
_

_The voices had been a trick, a malicious tweak of the nose before showing the blade.  
_

Wally swallowed, now convinced that what Dee was truly offering behind all the dream theatrics was his demise.

_Well, duh.  When wasn't the definition of an insane bad guy  someone who wanted to off his head?_

His automatic reaction was to decline the invite; but....alone...with only the immoral Luthor and his immortal puppet J'onn for company? Perhaps he should give the offer more thought?

_Fact: of late the I.B.G's were not out so much to kill his body as to ravage it and destroy his mind.  Imagine the damage if they made him their puppet?  Grodd's little playtime earlier would have just been a small taste.  They'd use me as a weapon of mass destruction._

_Not. On. His. Watch.  
_

_He'd die first.  
_

_Die.  
_

This Home _(with the capital 'H')_ Dee offered him might be the after life for those who were graced with enhanced motion capabilities. Wally vaguely recalled the great speedster mystic Max Mercury discussing it with his friend Jay Garrick before his Uncle Barry died and Max disappeared. Wally had still been Kid Flash back then and a member of Dick Grayson's (Robin the Boy Wonder's) Teen Titans. Easily distracted by what he considered more relevant things, Wally had not understood the elders strangely disturbing talks about death and so hadn't paid full attention to much of it. (After all, he was just a young teenager and faster than any bad guy he knew, as was his Uncle Barry. Speedsters could handle anything! Wasn't like they were going to die anytime soon, were they?)

It was scary how naive that childish belief in their immortality had proven to be.

According to Max, the Speed Field...or _Force_...gave them power to move faster than the sound barrier...maybe even as fast as light. It was a wonderful dimension of pure motion being neither good nor evil and yet apparently choosy on who it granted speed powers to. Max had been convinced that it was not random electrified chemicals, but this Speed Force that provided their special abilities. Had to be, because Max had his speed supposedly bestowed on him by a Native American while a friend of their's used a mathematical equation. Chemicals had only figured in three of the known cases creating super speed.

At any rate this unique _force_ had for some reason taken a shine to a child named Wallace Rudolph West of Blue Valley, Nebraska--then on loan to his Aunt Iris by frustrated parents at wit's end with their daydreamer son. Aunt Iris lived in the Twin Cities...specifically, Central City: Home of The Flash (coolest super hero on the planet) and was being courted by this really boring blond guy who worked for the local police department yet was on a first name basis with said coolest super hero on the planet and had made it possible for the founder and sole member of the Blue Valley The Flash Fan Club to meet with his idol.

_._

 

 

_"Ha ha. Sorry, Wally! What happened that day was a billion-to-one chance! You know what they say... Lightning never strikes twice in the same place!"_

_._

"So much for that bit of oral tradition, Uncle Barry." Wally muttered.  Lightning had not only struck twice, but like some precocious mischief maker seemed to like splashing identical concoctions on unsuspecting males who were otherwise minding their own business.

Not that it had turned out to be a bad thing.  Wally had taken to being a speedster like he'd been borned for it.

Anyway, Max blamed it all on The Speed Force and it's bestowing of super powers, not on Barry's carelessness regarding kids, chemicals, and an advancing storm front. Not that anyone had decided the field was even sentient. Max had still been studying the matter and had not come to any definite conclusions before he'd disappeared off the face of the Earth. What he had related to the others was that when the time came for a speedster to die, he was snatched back into the Speed Force by a dark entity and forever unable to return to the material dimensions. It was also, Max said, theoretically possible to simply run so fast beyond light speed that you could get trapped there without the need of any special escort. Naturally, this had put a severe hamper on Max's studies as he could not risk going too close to the dimension without being lost to it permanently (something which latter-day Wally now hypothesized is what had happened to him and possibly to Jay as well. Poor Uncle Barry had reportedly been atomized by a super villain's weapon, so Wally wasn't sure about him other than that he must have attained some sort of heaven because Barry had been as unselfish and self sacrificing as it got.)

Well, _now,_ yeah, he believed in heaven.  Back then it had been a different story.

Before Barry's death Wally had been sure that an after life had sounded way too mystical and mysterious to be real. In an effort to emulate his scientific mentor, he'd preferred cold hard facts and so had quickly tuned the discussion of mysticism out. Uncle Barry, he'd insisted, had gotten his speed through being doused with electrified chemicals and the resultant reaction of the mix with his body; definitely not through some mystic Force that sounded like something George Lucas had conjured up. Yes, it had been an odd--yet still entirely feasible--coincidence, for Wally to had gotten his powers the exact same way. _Astronomical odds_ that lightning had literally struck twice at the same batch of chemicals held in the same room, but stranger things had happened in science so...

End of discussion: Max's ideas of mystery energies and other dimensions were mere will-o'-the-wisps and a waste of time; same as were all fantasy, weird tales were for little kids, not adults or their super-powered sidekicks.

Somewhat unsurprisingly after his Uncle's death, Wally had found the idea of a speedster heaven much more appealing.  Not much later than discovering he enjoyed watching fictional movies and playing video games as well as reading about science fact. Of course the trump card in his having come to appreciate Max's theories was that he had run into the Speed Force after his battle with Luthor-Brainiac. He had been trapped there until Shayera and the League had yanked him out again. Wally had proof the place existed...and that it was insanely spellbinding enough that he hadn't wanted to leave it.

So...did this make the Speed Force a place where dead speedsters ended up?  Or just a random pocket of condensed motion energy that Max had stumbled across and Wally into?

What of the voices he'd heard...been hearing? What if Max had been correct all along and there was a specific heaven waiting for people like him--be it the Speed Force or somewhere else? Could one of those voices have even been Max's or Jay's or...maybe even his Uncle's?

Even if they weren't anyone he knew, the voices sounded like they really, really wanted him there. Wally could hardly say the same about here where he was hated and despised by all but Luthor, Batmen, and The Question. Except that the Batmen and Question were dead while Luthor still despised him other than as a toy for his puerile amusement. Certainly this was no incentive to stay on Terra Firma?

Wally supposed that the real question was...what good could he do if he stayed? As galling as it was to admit, Luthor had essentially won the war. The world loved the megalomaniac while despising the superheroes. Good had failed to counter Evil--big time. There was really nothing he could do here anymore but suffer the aftermath of Lex's victory: a spoil of war.

Or was this speculation about a speedster heaven moot for him anyway? Wally glanced at the stern visage of Barry Allen. Saint Bartholomew as far as his protege was concerned.

What if Luthor was right and he--Wally--was too tainted to be accepted in anybody's idea of _'nirvana_ ' save maybe that maintained by Dionysus the god of music, poetry, and sensory overload?

_Die....die...die._

_._

_So...this is my Kobayashi Maru...the no-win scenario....my ultimate test on who I am, what makes up Wallace Rudolph West.  Damn.  Why couldn't I have been born James Tiberus Kirk instead?  
_

"You will be more than accepted at Home," Dee assured him, confirming that he was still reading Wally's mind--which did nothing so much as tick Wally off.

"Maybe...but if I accept this... Home Sweet Final Resting Home your advertising...what happens to the people I leave behind?"

"Why, what always happens to people since the beginning of Time." Dee eyed him, "Are you truly so conceited that you think your leaving or staying will change anything of importance? The planet is as likely to continue to rotate without you on it. Just as it will if you choose to stay cuddled with Luthor in..." he pretended to take an interest in a wall clock "another hour?"

The speedster winced even as his eyes flashed in anger. "The League..." he began, but Dee cut him off, his finflection harsher, _colder_ than ever.

_The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one._

"The League is doomed whether you stay or not. As you said, Luthor can track you. I can and am controlling what remains of the League,"  Again the delays. Dee reminded himself of the rule imposed by his employers _: no forcing the idiot to go_. At least, not the physical kind of force. Otherwise he'd have simply grabbed the man up months earlier, thrown him into the thrice-damned rift and be done with it.

"Yeah, I know.." Wally had picked up on Dee's impatience and it made him even more wary of the dream manipulator...of the need to keep J'onn unharmed. He'd lowered his own volume, biting back his anger; making his voice quiet and accepting, because the last thing needed here was one or the other losing their cool..and who knew what might happen?

_J'onn in the crossfire._

"Yet having everything under your thumb, you want me to go...Home," he pointed out. "Why is that? What does it matter to you whether I escape from Luthor's plans or not? Why do you care? Last I recall, you schemed to trap me in a dream state nightmare of hyper velocity. You're a bad guy, a villain, a rogue, a lawbreaker, offender, felon, convict, malefactor, wrongdoer; gangster, gunman, thief, robber; rogue, reprobate, ruffian, hoodlum; miscreant, scoundrel; Law malfeasant; informal crook, con, bad guy, baddy, lowlife; dated cad, knave; blackguard.--"

_Childhood dictionary memorization; gotta love it._

Okay, maybe not.

While he'd been rambling, Dee had raised a hand in an 'upwards' gesture. The opening in J'onzz's amoeba form started to close up again. Dee turned his back on it and Wally and was lifting a leg.

Perceptions shifted to hyper motion.

_About face._

_Leg lifting._

_Like as needed to walk._

_Walk away._

_From Wally._

Dee was going to just go? No explanations? No counterarguments? No negotiations? Nothing?! _Nada!Zilch!Thehell?_

"I am done attempting to argue sense into your thick skull," Dee informed him. "Stay, and learn to grow ever more fond of Master Luthor's intimate caresses as the days become years with him as the sole human he allows to touch you."

_No!_

"Wait!" Wally desperately leaned and pushed against the slowly closing gap in a sudden panic to stop Dee from abandoning him here. It was almost sealed up again. The thought of the rest of his life trapped with Luthor...his nightmarishly long life...

_Heart beating._

_Adrenaline release._

_Blood surging._

_Muscles contracting; relaxing._

_Move!_

_Now!_

With a burst of energy, Wally shot his arm through the remaining gap, finger tips brushing against Dee's shoulder, trying to stretch further to stop his retreat despite the pressure encircling his arm. "Please!"

The gel stopped. Dee half turned back and cocked his head expectantly...waiting.

"Please?  Continue."

Swallowing down the bile in his throat, Wally strove to sound calm and reasonable even though he wasn't feeling either of those. Dee had backed him into a corner with no where to run and no real bargaining chips.

"Please...don't go."

.

.

_Star Trek: The Kobayashi Maru: the no-win scenario.  The ultimate test that showed you just what you were made of when you realized there was no way to win.  No Starfleet cadet could hope to outwit the computerized game...until Cadet James Kirk outwitted it through cheating._

It was like reliving those demoralizing early chess games against Bats the Dark Knight had once insisted he participate in.  Cowed by the mystique of The Bat, Barry's stories about him, and unsure to what level of violence The Dark Knight might resort to in order to get compliance, Wally had felt helpless to protest (he really sucked at strategy games.)

That is until on their third 'play date' a thoroughly frustrated and bored Flash had simply stopped trying to win. He'd sat there quietly, forcing himself to wait despite his body's screaming to do _something_.  Batman had eventually sneered in disgust and left without demanding they endure another game--or lack of one.

In a blink, Wally had then ran around the world several times, utterly relieved that Batman hadn't pushed his dominance any further because Wally had been sure that one more minute of inactivity would have seen him burst through his own skin.

Actually, it could be argued that it was Flash's strategy that had won there--he'd gotten out of the unwanted lessons while literally hardly having to lift a finger.  In that scenario he'd been Captain Kirk cheating on the test and _winning_ the game.

This was no game of peaceful chess nor a scene in a movie.  Dee wasn't going to let Wally rewire his reality; but the point was that Wally hated being helpless and he was feeling that way now. Perhaps he could yet get something out of this no-win situation? Not for himself, personally, but for the others?

 

 

_He couldn't run, he couldn't vibrate because of J'onn, they had his body, his life...  
_

_Think outside the game._

_Can't retreat.  
_

_Can't go forward.  
_

_Skip sideways?_

_Surrender was unavoidable, but not unconditionally. He did still possess one playing piece and the will to make use of it._

_He wasn't Captain James Kirk who avoided having to die in his Kobayashi Maru test.  
_

_Nor was he, precisely Spock who never had to take it.  
_

_He was The Flash.  
_

_A hero took care of the needs of the many before his own.  
_

_Always.  
_

Maybe he could be Mr. Spock in another way.

_The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few...or the one.  
_

 

"Please _wait_.  I have a proposition to make."

"You are hardly in a position to make demands."

"Yeah? Well I may not be in Elastic Man's category, but I'm more flexible than I look.  Besides, this will interest you."

The dull eyes lidded.  "Go on."

"It's important to you that I go-- _really important_ or you wouldn't keep asking. For some reason you can't just kill me or--again--you wouldn't keep asking for my compliance. I don't know what you get out of my being gone seeing as I'm not a valuable playing piece anymore, but I'll agree to this if you promise me you'll stop working for Luthor: stop influencing the League. I'll go...Home...if you promise me that."  Wally bit his lip.  If Dee refused, what then?  Was he even an honorable crook like most of Flash's Rogues?  He could lie and hurt Wally's friends with no remorse at all.  Wally would have no way of knowing.

_This was skipping sideways....an unatural way to move and kind of sucked.  A no win for himself.  It felt awkward._

_It was, however, still a way to move.  The only option he had to still go out a hero.  
_

_Die.  
_

Wally didn't consider suicide to be horrible as long as some good could come of it and what death could be more noble than dying for your friends? As galling as it was to admit, as a prisoner he really was useless to the side of Good. Alive, he was soiled and compromised. Maybe his death would be the break the world needed to throw off Luthor's control. Not quite the kind of martyrdom Uncle Barry had achieved, but it was now his best shot to be remembered with some sort of honor.

Well, yeah...and there was the bonus that he wouldn't have to suffer Lex Luthor's perversions ever again.

So, hey, he wasn't _entirely_ selfless.

He was a human type human and not a half-breed alien.

So sue him.

 

Dee smiled. A real--pleased--smile.

To Wally it was as creepy a sight as Luthor and his leers.

"Then I give you my word and hold you to yours." Dee gestured and J'onn's body withdrew completely from around the prisoner, leaving the speedster naked, slightly damp, and very self conscious. West shivered.  The boy looked pathetic, but rather than trying to salvage his pride, he employed The Hopeful Puppy Look.

Like that ploy would work on Dr. Destiny.

On the other hand...what could it hurt if it got West to stay docile?

Dee raised an eyebrow as if to say 'go ahead'. "Five seconds...and if you try to run away from me, you will regret it."

.

.

Not wasting a millisecond, Wally immediately sped over to the mannequins that wore actual costumes as opposed to plastic-cast figures. Next to them were some enclosed display cases of more uniforms donated by people who had become involved with The Flash's career.

Like most males, West hated it when it came time to shop for clothing. That had been one of the fringe benefits of being The Flash: pull on ring, hit button, get dressed in a whirlwind of motion, done. No hunting through the closet for stuff that was both clean and matched up style and color wise so that you weren't mistaken for The Trickster. No comparison shopping at the stores with eagle-eyed sales clerks watching you like you were a some sort of klepto.

Yep, the Flash ring was the way to go.

If only he had one handy.

 

What to wear? What to wear? What was the correct choice when preparing for your own funeral--off the rack or something from the museum case table?

Something red and lighting trimmed, naturally.

Wally zipped over to the Flash figures and reached out...

Damn....considering all, he felt funny even thinking about taking the clothes right off the back of Uncle Barry, Jay, or any of the other speedsters letting alone doing it.  Too...improper.

_Disrespectful._

What else?

There were the display cases of some captured bad guy's stuff.

_Going out wearing the garb of a Rogue?_

That was _so_ not about to happen. Not even one of the newly reformed Pied Piper's flamboyant getup was worth consideration (mainly because Hartley Hathaway had donated his original Rogue outfit rather than the much snazzier new one and Wally detested polka dots, (he shuddered considered the options), not to mention stripes, checkers, flares, and openly advertising whether you preferred boxers or briefs.)

_Man..._

It was a sad truth that something about flamboyant hero and villain mind sets brought forth the worst examples of fashion statements; and though he might feel like an idiot, that didn't mean Wally was willing to meet his Maker dressed as one.

_Sorry, Hartley, bro, with all due respect your suit was just plain fugly.  Like discount brand jammies.  
_

_Ollie...ditto.  To be candid I don't think that Robin Hood look really screamed masculinity.  
_

_Supes....no. Just...no.  Got some standards._

_Besides, the Dead record keepers might just record the wrong name down if he pilfered Superman's leotards and then there would be erroneous rumors throughout the underworld that Superman was not only dead, but must have had the snot beat out of him because he looked really un-Superly now._

_..Oh, man, had clothes shopping ever sucked this much?_

Fuck it...what did a wardrobe really matter to the dead? Wally had to concede that it wasn't like he was going to be taking anything with him through the Pearly Gates or on Charon's boat. As he understood it, neither version of Death was big on accepting carry-on luggage and everything you saw was just metaphysical mind conjurations anyway. St. Peter just wanted your name, sainthood rank, and good deeds number. Charon was into cold, hard coinage. Neither wore or cared about the cut of spandex vs rubber.

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I shall return there."

_'...'  
_

Yeah, _right_. He wasn't dead just at this very moment; whereas he _was_ wet, there was a freaking breeze coming from somewhere, and it was _damned cold like this!_

"I am an idiot."

_Maybe technically it was stealing, maybe those sales clerk's had been right to hover around, but..._

Wally ran to the official gift shop and returned to the waiting Dr. Destiny wearing a licensed _The Flash!_ lightning-motif fleeced sweat suit and matching running shoes, drying his hair at super speed with a _The Flash!_ bath towel. The suit was not as aerodynamic as his bona-fide _The_ Flash uniform, but it was somewhat comfy, warm, and it covered everything but his head.  (Unfortunately they were sold out of the hooded top version and his size in _The Flash!_ underwear, but--hey--he was no longer feeling like Captain Cold had nailed him with that ice gun and he was dressed and--really--what better form of fashion style was there to have on when shuffling off this mortal coil than something with _The Flash!_ logo on it?

.

.

"Okay...I'm ready. Let's go knock-knock-knocking on Heaven's door."

The little shopping spree had only lasted three seconds in real time, so Dee hadn't complained about Wally's dithering over fabrics or made any comment on the choice in purloined goods; he merely turned and headed for the exit. As he'd promised, Wally followed.

Well, this was unexpected.

He'd half expected his assassination to take place right away, but there was Dee opening up an exit door.  It appeared The Death of The Flash was to happen in the great outdoors rather than inside. Wally had always been an outside kind of guy ever since getting hit with that electricity bolt, so no problem there. Delays were good too. As long as this was done before Luthor's dinner was up it was good.

Good?

Good.

_Good, good, good, good--_

"Good!" Wally blurted out.  He blushed when the brown eyes swiveled in his direction.  "Um...so...what next?" The question was asked like a casual aside, but in reality Wally couldn't help but fret about the next few moments. His whole body started gently vibrating in nervous anticipation.

"You're afraid."

"Duh."

Well, he'd never been dead before!  Close, but close didn't count when it came to dying.

"Is it going to be quick? I'm kind of partial to fast living, you know, so a fast death would be really fine and dandy. And painless. Painless is good. You gonna whack me with a scythe? Bullet? Ray gun? Show me my accruing unpaid cable bill and then withhold anyone from dialing 911 while I die from shock? I guess any of those would work." In answer, Dee turned and held open the doors of the main exit and pointed outside. "Okay...this is reminding me rather eerily of that last spirit with Scrooge and the same creepy 'walk this way, I've something your dying to see' stroll he took to the cemetary. Although it was kind of neat when I talked Shayera into watching it with me and she sort of almost jumped into my lap. Well...okay, I jumped into hers." He frowned. "GL wasn't happy about that though and I got a face full of feathers too.  Also the silence thing.  You're really good at the silence thing.  That's something I always had trouble with, you know, remaining silent.  Yeah, you might have noticed that."

The guards at the entrance let them pass unhindered. They didn't even blink an eye at the fact Wally was escaping. Either they were used to Dee escorting prized prisoners about unfettered, Dee was controlling their walnut-sized minds, he was already dead and a ghost, or they were union and got paid regardless.

"Um...I hate to complain...but is this going to take long? Because these sweats really could have used a date with some fabric softener, the shop didn't carry underwear, and I'd rather not spend all eternity meeting souls I used to know while sporting a bad rash in a sociably unacceptable place to scratch and...oh wow."

Wally stared at it; transfixed.

It hadn't been there...and then it simply was.

Smack in the middle of a ripple in the space-time continuum.

The Entity. The storm thing. Right in front of him.

_Beautiful._

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I loved how Wally had the weirdest time of any of the Founders in JL episode Only A Dream. Everyone else started as pretty normal and quickly devolved to horror. Wally? Nah. He starts off weird then optimistic, only slowly moving into horror. (The frog bit took me a second to get the French joke and the Swedish Bikini Team? lmao.)
> 
> Yes, I do believe Wally would have chosen death over living if he felt that his demise would aid the good guys in fighting the bad dudes. He is truly Barry's protege regardless of how icky he feels just now.
> 
> To those not familiar with Barry Allen, he was the Flash of the Silver age who died while trying to save the multiple Earths from the Anti-Monitor. His martyrdom delayed the Anti-Monitor long enough for the assorted multiverse heroes to come up with an effective plan of attack. After that, Wally took up the mantle of The Flash (and went through so much grief from everyone's high expectations at the same time as mourning Barry that for awhile there he was not the sort of guy you'd take home to meet mother.)
> 
> [i](THIS BIT WAS WRITTEN BACK IN 2009. Since then....Wally has been 'retired' by DC Editorial despite at least one creative team and an artist wishing to resurrect him. I do so despise Didio.)  
> Barry Allen has since been resurrected against his will in the Flash: Rebirth comic book series going on now. Sadly, we are still waiting to see what this will mean for Wally and Bart as well as Max and Jay...and even The Quicks. Wally will be getting a new uniform. I can only hope that he isn't going to be relegated back to the Teen Titans as even a retro'd Barry is not as interesting a personality as Wally is. Of course, that's imho. On the uniform change...well, not the first time Wally's donned something other than the familiar red and gold. Just cross fingers it doesn't look dorky. . I can barely take those hood ornaments he has now, though I suppose they were useful for both Bats and Linda in getting a 'handle' on the mischievous speedster sprite.[/i]


	21. The Shadow of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cavalry arrives...  
> but so does something else.

 

  _._

  
_Talking away_   
_I don't know what I'm to say._   
_I'll say it anyway:_   
_Today's another day to find you_   
_Shying away._   
_I'll be coming for you, love, O.K?_

  
_Take on me_   
_Take me on_   
_I'll be gone_   
_in a day or two_

  
_So needless to say, I'm odds and ends_   
_But that's me; stumbling away_   
_Slowly learning that life is O.K._   
_Say after me_   
_It's no better to be safe than sorry._

  
_Take on me_   
_Take me on_   
_I'll be gone_   
_in a day or two._

  
_The things that you say_   
_Is it live or just to play_   
_My worries away?_   
_You're all the things I've got to remember._   
_You shying away_   
_I'll be coming for you anyway._

  
_Take on me_   
_Take me on_   
_I'll be gone_   
_in a day or two_

_~~Take On Me by A-ha_

_._

* * *

.

.

[Time: Fifteen minutes earlier: the waterfront between Keystone and Central]

.

It was 11:45am. The air temperature was still a bit on the cool side for late spring; however, the sun was out in force, it's rays coloring the river with little dancing prisms of light. Neither of the Batmen's cloaks reflected back Sol's radiance nearly as well as the Missouri did, but it still made the Dark Knights a bit psychologically uncomfortable.  For practical reasons they prefered a nocturnal existence:  daylight was not the best time for sneaking into an enemy's stronghold.

Frowning to himself, the native Batman (temporary code name: Nighthawk) lifted away the ultra-compact scope from his eye and tucked it safely into it's designated belt pouch. Central City looked peaceful enough; at least it did from the abandoned boat that they were hidden upon. Facing the other way, the Lord dimension's Batman (codenamed Jabberwocky) was using a pair of binoculars to scan Keystone's side of the shoreline.

The rescue team was on reconnaissance...and on edge. While the Twin Cities were rarely considered on par with Gotham, Hub City, or Blüdhaven's notoriety for _apocalyptic_ levels of mayhem, they did tend to attract a plethora of supervillains on top of normal civic disturbances. Even if no bad elements were active, it was much too quiet _._ At nearly mid-day, the joined blue-collar Keystone and white-collar Central metropolises should have been bustling with shoppers and workers out on lunch break.  The railways were silent and so was the airport.

_Lockdown.  Luthor has the entire area on lockdown.  It didn't need the smartest man on Earth to hypothesize why._

"Anything?" Nighthawk asked his unwanted twin.

"Not a thing."

"Nothing _Flashy_ , anyway," ammended their fellow human companion. Sitting between the two Dark Knights, Vic Sage had one shoe kicked off to display a cotton sock in all it's orange-dyed glory and was taking this quiet moment to inspect the damage to his foot. "Luthor's holding a private celebration.  Doesn't want to be disturbed by the paparazzi."

"Agreed," Jabberwocky turned his head enough to eye the Central coast.  "He kept Wally behind closed doors before.  Doesn't want the public to see him."

"You would know."

"This is all your fault," Jabberwocky snarled at the younger Batman and the blank-faced investigator.  "If you hadn't stopped us, we'd have had Flash safely away from that pervert."

"That's rich, coming from you."  Nighthawk calmly returned.

"I'm his lover.  Luthor is a rapist."  Ignoring the twin scoffing noises aimed at his statement, Jabberwocky scowled at the thought of Luthor even touching his beloved.  Once he got the red-head back to his own dimension he was going to bathe the man with the strongest body soap in existence.  Bruce would mark him with his own body until he smelled nearly as much like Bruce Wayne as Bruce Wayne did.  He was going to mount the billionaire's head, hands, and testicles in the Batcave.  Use them for target practice.  Wally could watch between bouts of Bruce's screwing West into the mattress, happy that he was liberated from Luthor insipid control and safe under Bruce's caring guardianship and the cavern's defenses.

The March Hare would be defeated or at least contained.  Wally would be free once Batman held his reins again. Lord Superman would be appeased when he saw that Flash's every activity was guided by Batman and not Wally's own capriciousness.  It wasn't like Bruce was ever going to let Flash run around playing hero ever again anyway.  Too risky.

Everything would work out.

Bruce and Wally would have their Happily Ever After.

.

This was taking too long.

"We need to move in closer."  Jabberwocky rose and put his binoculars away.  "Now.  Before Luthor takes him somewhere more secure."  He sourly gave The Question a nudge with the side of his boot.  "Coming or too injured to be of use?"

"Jet lagged.  Last time taking Economy Class," The Question grunted back as he rubbed his bruised ankle one last time. The swollen joint would be serviceable enough for the day. The injury incurred when Cheshire Cat had let him drop a tad too soon for Vic's liking and complete health; before the Martian went flying off to deal with The Green Lantern.  Vic would cope. Part of him was suspicious that he'd been dropped while still fifteen feet up in the air on purpose (a plot to help Lord Batman get his clutches on Flash again?)  On the other hand, earlier into the battle the visiting version of J'onn J'onzz had not only caught him before his unscheduled _oneness_ with Mother Earth, but so far the Martian had been very attune to Vic's dislike and was respectfully keeping his distance.

Still could be a plot to wisk the speedster back to the dimension gate before they could be stopped.  Vic didn't trust either of them an inch.

Question waited in silence for both Batmen to decide on a plan to retrieve Flash from the current enemy's claws. What Vic most missed was his gun--lost during the battle when Hol had smacked it out of his hand before he could shoot Stewart. Not that Vic was particularly fond of guns, but a weapon in the hand was worth two pointed at you.  He'd have to improvise with something else or he'd be a sitting duck when they accosted Luthor. Fortunately, he was a master at extemporizing during a battle.

He must have implied something to that effect as Nighthawk had an 'I'm a little amused by you' quirk to his mouth.

_Probably body language._   He shifted his posture.  Noticed that the leg of his trousers was caught in the elastic of his sock an reached over to fix it.  _Or a simple wardrobe malfunction._

"You insisted on coming," Nighthawk slyly reminded him. "I wanted you to stay and keep an eye on the portal."  He inwardly grimaced at Question's choice in socks, but refrained from commenting on them. Like himself, the man was neither a meta-human nor a newbie to crime fighting. No doubt Vic Sage had some obscure reason for wearing that color of hosiery and wouldn't appreciate his advice on the symbiosis of dark clothing and stealth. Not that black and grey did much good with the sun near its zenith. Nighthawk cursed the cloudless sky overhead with it's overly bright sunlight. It was no wonder Wally had chosen this place over somewhere more in need of a special talent for fighting multiple crimes within a large population center. Blue skies and daisies was definitely _The Flash's_ kind of personality-to-environment fit.

"Coward went through...ain't coming back," Question informed them as he reached for his shoe. Not that Vic was unhappy to see the back of the alternate Superman. It was because of that twisted version of Big Blue that the Hub City reporter still sported several deep bruises. Vic had been ultra leery of Superman ever since the possibility of a President Luthor BBQ had come to light via Lord Superman. It just confirmed all his suspicions about absolute power corrupting absolutely.

Speaking of xenophobia inciters...

A translucent light-green mass was rising slowly from within the wood planks just before him, making a low humming sort of warbling noise. Question immediately shifted his grip on his shoe, ready to bash at the melon-sized lump as if it was an offending mutant jellyfish rising from the river's depths. The 'jellyfish' seemed to twist about to show off two glowing eyes.

"I wouldn't do that."

Lord Martian Manhunter morphed an extra arm with which to stay the shoe's descent towards his head. He sardonically eyed the steel-reinforced sole while he finished phasing the rest of his mass through the boat, but did not hesitate in moving away from the self-styled conspiracy investigator once that was finished. It was not that he was afraid of the item or the wielder, but 'Cheshire Cat' had no real desire to upset this paranoid human any more than he was already. Of the three Lords who had crossed through the portal to this dimension, the Martian was the least sure that their original objective had been the correct path to take. As a telepath, he held a bit more empathy towards these counterparts from another Earth than his compatriots did. Still, he found The Question's unceasing paranoia amusing and was not above some teasing.

"Just getting out an irritant," an unruffled Sage muttered.  "Phobic on shoes?"

"Not that I have experienced.  If I were I would probably have exhibited a more drastic reaction."

"Hrrm...Like invading?"

The Martian let his features express regret.  "You think ill of us," he quietly noted, "and I grant that given The Justice Lord's former actions in your world you have reason to feel that way.  However, our past ideology difference regarding justice keeping is moot.  Kal-El is not the coward you envision him, Mr. Sage. Lord Superman was, however, very pessimistic of our chances of survival even before his health was compromised by The March Hare.  Considering that last encounter, his wariness is not ill founded and he has likely gone to protect our world as best he can should Lord Batman's strategy fail.  We are all in grave danger and time is of the essence.  Whether Wallace confronts his own doppelgänger here or there can be discussed when he is freed for it would be better served if he was not being held by Luthor at the time."  Cheshire proferred his hand to Sage...who ignored the overture in favor of getting on his feet unaided.

Face again schooled to show no emotion over the slight, J'onzz turned his attention to Nighthawk. "I have dealt with your Hol and Stewart. Their minds were utterly overshadowed by Dee's. Countering his influence was...more difficult than I had expected; I fear I was forced to injure your comrades both rather extensively to get them to desist in following us."  He noted Nighthawk's tensing at his words and slightly bowed his head.  "They will recover; I did no permanent damage though as I said was no easy feat easy for me to accomplish.  Though I can not be certain, it would be a wise hypothesis to make that The March Hare is somehow adding to Dee's control over others."

" For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high _places_.."  a solemn Nighthawk quoted.  


"Second Corinthians 10:3-4, King James Version," Question added.  "Powers in Conspiracy."  


Jabberwocky and Nighthawk grimaced, but did not disagree with either assessment. Like most of the major world players, The Green Lantern and Shayera Hol had been compromised by the machinations of John Dee and Lex Luthor. Normally, John Dee was able to manipulate minds while the owner was asleep. It was only of late that his power had magnified to where he could influence many people at once and at any time; therefore, it stood to reason that something or someone was augmenting _Doctor Destiny_. While Stewart and Hol were not to blame for their out-of-character-behavior any more than the other victims were, the unaffected heroes were in survival mode. Casualties _happened_.

"The March Hare.  There was something... _familiar_ mixed with Dee's mental signature," Cheshire Cat continued. "To be honest, I was losing the mental battle until the end when I felt a glimmer of my Flash's presence and then...Dee's energy level dropped.  Whether it is Dee or our insane Flash who holds the greater power I am not certain, but I felt his exasperation just before I was able to gain the upper hand.

"Interesting," Question mused. "Dissension in the ranks?"

"It would be ironic considering this is the tactic they have been using against your League.  Divide and conquer is an oft-employed strategy."

"That doesn't make sense unless...." Jabberwocky's voice held a touch of hope. "Perhaps my Wally is regaining his old personality?  Don't you see?  Wally liked and respected J'onn.  If he is regretting--"

"Meaning he didn't like your Stewart or Hol?  Because _if_ it is him he's using them to attack their friends." Nightwing glared at the Lords.  "Until we gain more factual information, I suggest we deal with the matter at hand. Luthor is most likely holding _our_ Flash at the museum before transferring him to a LexCorp facility.  He'll want to keep West's capture as private as possible."

"Not one to share his personal collection until it's insured," The Question agreed. "Anyone work out what's keeping an _enhanced_ Dee from controlling _us_?"

"Perhaps..." an uneasy Jabberwocky tentatively began to whisper before Nighthawk interrupted.

_"No.  We don't."_

Behind the mask, Question's eyes narrowed at Nighthawk's overly terse answer, the set of his jaw. So that little unexplained fact was troubling the Dark Knight as well?  "Best get a move on before divine powers or principalities realize we're still alive _to_ muck with."

.

* * *

 

 

  .

You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head. ~Matt Groening, The Simpsons, spoken by the character Marge Simpson

.

* * *

.

[Current Time: Central City's Flash Museum Plaza: Noon]

.

When he was young his mother would often chide that he wasn't a flycatcher so best close his mouth.

Of course today his mom would probably forgive him for his lack of etiquette considering...

The Central City Incident storm slash alien slash energy _thing_ was staring at Mrs. West's son.

Well....figuratively staring, when you considered the lack of eyeballs.

.

_See, a storm didn't have any eyeballs, don't be ridiculous; that was tater spuds. Potatoes have eyes.  
_

_Er...no, not real eyes.  Unless they were Mr. Potato Head.  
_

_He loved Mr. Potato Head.  There was even a League version of the toys that came out three Christmases ago.  
_

_Not that the League had received one cent of the profit.  John had given him the evil eye for even sugesting...  
_

_Eyes; not eyeballs.  
_

_Though storms did have eyes:  Eye of the storm.  
_

 

_Express delivery text to Gormless Idiot from Hovering Imaginary Batman Sub-basement Conscious.  Click Accept or Delete to Read :_

_Delete--no, accept.  HIBSBC threw such the fit if he got sent straight to the Trash bin.  
_

 

 

_*Flash, your mind's off track.  Get mind on track.  Now.*  
_

_Okay, The Random Thought Policeman had a point, but...now? he was about to have a flashback of the time Shayera thought his nude Justice League Potato Head(tm) was an egg.  Which had been hilarious...up to the point where she'd noticed it was Hawkgirl Miss Potatohead and lacking any accessories.  
_

_On his bed.  
_

_Women came to the strangest conclusions when it came to stuff like that.  
_

_The comedy had sort of degenerated when she'd started throwing things at him._ _Man, who knew  Shay had such a good aim.  Or that a Justice League Hawk Girl Potato Head(tm) was so aerodynamic?  Or that Thanagar Justice was the_ Your Skinny Ass Is Guilty Until Proven Innocent _kind?_

_Stupid memory._

 

  _*NOW.*  
_

_'Kay, 'kay.  No more eyes or affronted Hawk women.  
_

 

 

  _*Flash!*  
_

_.  
_

The Entity was _contemplating_ him.

Definitely. _  
_

_Probably.  
_

Sparking clear lightning and distorted space.  It was just as he remembered it. Or to be more accurate, just as it had looked to Wally when he'd first been reminded of seeing it there on The Question's laptop and in Dr. Dee-mento's IMAX theatre illusion; only now he was really, _really_ experiencing it up close and _live in 3D_.

Honestly, it was not all that impressive _mass_ wise. Maybe the size of an eight foot cube (okay, maybe of a dome. Possibly even a hexagon. It was kind of hard for him to tell seeing as he was only viewing it from one side and it was all energy---not exactly a physical body you could measure and order a costume for. ) Anyway, it was hard to tell just precisely where it was and was not as the edges were there yet somehow...not. They blurred into a warping of the reality around it like some sort of maelstrom done in watercolors. In the center was light flashes and shimmering like you might see as reflected on a swimming pool's surface. No dirty browns; just shades of primarily blue's, purples, and yellow-tinted bright light flashes. There was no disconcerting grayness here...no darkness obscuring the sheer electricity and motion....the speed within it.

Gods, the speed! The gorgeous, _gorgeous_ speed!

Poetry in motion. Velocity as an art form.

That was what the distortion was, Wally realized (and how he understood that he couldn't guess and right now neither did he care.) The physical universe was bumping against an entity/universe/being made of nearly pure speed melded with charged protons and electrons or if not precisely those particles then something darn well like them.   Whatever the science was behind it's makeup...to Wally's eyes it was beautiful beyond belief.

The Entity was moving-- _living at the speed of light_...no more and no less. It either wanted to be seen or it needed to travel at this velocity in order to manifest itself in Earth's dimension; yet Wally had the strong feeling that it was going what it considered as achingly slow, that it was taking all of it's concentration to remain here at a speed visible to a normal human's eye.

Nor had it just come like some tourist with a list of sightseeing agendas...it had appeared to Wally specifically _for Wally_ \--which was weird as it wouldn't need to slow down for him to see it: once aware of it's presence, his speedster vision would adjust anyway. So maybe it was _relatively puttering around_ the museum plaza because it wanted someone else to know it was there?  Someone who wasn't The Fastest Man Alive?

Dee?  Luthor? Wally shivered as a whisper of memory darted across his mind. He remembered now. The voices, so familiar...so _desperate_.

Calling him.

* * *

_Wallace!_

_They can't! (The sensation of otherness touching him.) Ohnotheywould!(gripping)Theywould!  
_

_I'll find you!_

_(tugging, tugging...)  
_

_Nonono! Stop it! Make them stop! Please,Idon'twantogo!  
_

_tugging, PULLING...tearing!)_

_I'll find you again! I promise, Wallace, I will! I'll find you!_

_Distortion. Pain. Loss.  
_

* * *

The before and after of this memory was just beyond his ability to recall... _dammit---if only he could remember!_

Regardless, he was why the alien was here and all it wanted was to be with him.

Wallace Rudolph West was absolutely and totally fine with the idea of taking it up on that proposal.

Fully entranced by this siren of speed, Wally failed to notice that Doctor Destiny not only did not share his fascination, but had gaped in surprised and then was clearly terribly displeased by the phenomenon's being there at all.  In fact, as Dee grabbed West's arm to pull him away his countenance was twisted in anger as the dream meister glared death threats at the sentient lightning storm.  Wally shuddered at the deja-vu feeling.

_Not again!_

"Ignore it, West or your friends will suffer," Dr. Destiny threatened before confronting the being.  "What are _you_ doing here?" he hissed at The Entity, making sure that he kept his body between Wally and the intruder. Feeling the wrist he held start to vibrate, Dee gripped it harder in warning.  To his consternation, a reply came not from the Entity, but from the direction of the river.

"Flash-- _No!_ "

* * *

Dee frowned as he tried to tug Flash back into the museum while keeping two wary eyes on The Entity. That had sounded like Batman, but with far too much emotion behind it.

Improbable as the Dark Knight and the would-be rescue party were dead at the hands of his former League team mates.

His peripheral vision caught a dark figure leapt over an obstacle, scalloped cape swirling with each step. 

_Or not._

_How...inauspicious._

Another black bat running after the first. _  
_

Dee cursed the existence of vigilantes everywhere.

_They had survived. The damned Bat Duo had survived. Probably the other Martian as well.  
_

_Was it just ill luck or had The Three intervened?  
_

_Shit! Another complication to prolong his indenture!  Now he'd have to deal with the vigilantes before collecting his paystub.  
_

_As with all parts of his life that superheroes had touched...this--Dee swore--was a state grossly unfair._

* * *

"Wally, don't let it touch you!" Jabberwocky yelled out as he ran without forethought towards the speedster, belatedly reaching for a batarang. Just behind him came his twin and a noticeably limping (yet still quick-footed) Vic Sage.  Jabberwocky could careless.  His sole attention was on Flash an the Electrified Plasma Distortion.  Intuition was curdling his gut, screaming that if the two connected...if the creature was The March Hare...

Flash would die.

 

"Jabberwocky--you damned fool--get back!" Nighthawk inwardly seethed at such a display of atypical recklessness from _a Batman_. Had the man lost all sense of reason?  It was this same emotional impulsiveness that had resulted in Flash incapacitating his doppelganger with a haymaker back in the Lord's Batcave. Jabberwocky's weakness had been proven a good thing for the League then, yes; but it was _not_ so great for it now. Bruce already held a batarang in each hand and was ready to let them fly at the enemy---for all the good they might do against a dimension-crossing, Calabi-Yau shaped, light show of unknown properties...

_Oh._

_Oh no._

The cavalry had come anticipating a clash with Luthor and his men. The sudden appearance of Wally and Dee coming from the museum sans Luthor and an armed escort had been unexpected by Nighthawk; albeit not nearly as much a surprise as the storm creature that The Justice League had fought last year appearing at almost the precise moment Wally had stepped outside. If this was The March Hare come for the League's Flash, then Jabberwocky would not get off so easily as he had when the insane version of Wally had been more interested in wrecking vengeance upon The White Rabbit outside of Hub City.

Utterly forgotten by all was the blue-clad faceless man who brought up their rear.

For his part, The Question ignored Jabberwocky's suicidal behavior. If the displaced idiot wanted to get killed...no skin off Vic's nose.  Instead, he centered his attention and and offbeat advice for West and the strange phenomenon the young man was staring at by picking up a rock and hurling it at the speedster.

"Incoming," Sage breathed out.

As he hoped, The Flash's internal alarm system indeed sensed _'incoming'_ and Wally automatically sidestepped it without even needing to think about it. That was okay as the projectile hadn't been meant to strike the meta, but was only meant to garner the man's attention towards Vic.

Which it did.

It also had the plus side of Wally's instinctive 'evasive maneuvers' wrenching the Flash free from Dee's grip.

Wally turned around, looking befuddled at the sight of an angry Dee and three rather solid-looking _ghosts_ coming his way.

"Run!" Vic loudly advised the speedster.

If anything could have moved Wally's attention away from the thing of beauty before him, Dee's display of animosity and the sudden resurrection of his friends were it. Oh yeah, and being nearly pelted by a fist-sized piece of Barry Allen statue.

"Bats? Vic?" Wally blinked in mounting confusion, even empowered with super speed, his mind was still numbed by being so close to something he considered on par with an angel.

Was he dead? Weren't _they_ dead? (Dee had said as much.) Were his friends coming to Heaven too? That was cool with Wally if they wanted to carpool into Heaven, but they weren't speedsters so would they be allowed into Speed Paradise? Surely there was a _Batcave_ Heaven for Batmen and a...well, some sort of nirvana for ultra paranoid conspiracy trackers?

* * *

_"Betrayal!"_

_"Well, no shit?"_ Dee cursed the yapping voice in his head. The warning was rather late in coming and distracting at a time he didn't need more agitation. Dr. Destiny was momentarily torn between dealing first with the illegal-alien interloper or with the heroes currently rushing towards them--- _all_ of them interfering with what had nearly been a done deal.

_"Idiot--the Caretaker is the bigger threat._

_Get West clear of him then deal with the other interlopers._

_ It is on it's way."_

Dee acknowledged the telepathic orders, shuddering at their implication. _It_ never took direction well even from the puppet master. Best to get this taken care of so that the monster could return back to whence it came asap.

_The Caretaker! Damn the seditious troublemaker to the realm of nightmares! When The Three catch the traitor, they'll annihilate him for this farce! Unravel him particle by particle!  Toss the random particles into the Great Darkness.  
_

Railing would not fix this.

It was time to go offensive.

_._

_Martian--he's here for West! Stop him!_

Within the Flash Museum, J'onn J'onzz's came instantly awake; all thoughts of Lex Luthor as his god erased from his mind. He abandoned his amoeba shape and became incorporeal, swiftly phasing through the walls in his eagerness to please his true master.

.

_Luthor! Your prize escapes!_

Inside the museum, Lex Luthor had cleaned up, eaten his dinner, and was already returning to where he'd left his pet when he felt an odd twinge of anxiety fill him. Something was happening. Something potentially disastrous.

_West!_

The billionaire grit his teeth as he grabbed a gun from one of his men and ran.

_West was his! Stop them!  
_

* * *

Outside, The Question saw the Lord's version of the Martian Manhunter suddenly stumble, grab his head and moan, his eyes glowing.

_Oh...it figured!_

"I have...to get...West," Cheshire Cat mumbled in pain. Vic did not pause to consider the ramifications of a mere human belting a powerful alien across the chops.  He laid a hay maker on J'onzz II's chin, then hurriedly backpedaled to stand back-to-back with Nighthawk as the Martain slumped, but did not go all the way down.

" _This_ is why I wanted to bring that flame thrower!" Vic snarled as his eyes sought for something he could use as a makeshift weapon. He noted that Luthor's guards were blinking as they finally left their oblivious state and took in the situation. Question saw Dee looking like he was wrestling with a migraine and figured _there_ was the cause of his own headaches. The guards started raising their rather nasty looking ordinance.

"Great."

Things was going to get a lot worse. He just knew it.

* * *

Seeming to sense all the hostility against it, the Caretaker (a.k.a. The Entity) moved forward aiming for Wally even as the distracted speedster continued staring in bewilderment at seeing the others converging on him. This was not how it wanted their reunion to go, but there was little time before the others acted. However, last time this was tried it had been a disaster and Wally had been hurt. What if that happened again?

_He who hesitated could well lose everything._ Grimly, he prepared to reach out.

_Hurry!_

* * *

In the middle of the maelstrom, a rattled Wally caught sight of the guards at the entrance raising their guns to shoot his friends down.

_Not good._

Beyond them came Lex Luthor, scowling and also holding one big ass gun.

_Luthor who wanted him helpless and his friends_ _dead._

_His friends were in danger!  
_

Flash completely forgot about the 'angel', 'ghosts', and his confusion as fear for his friends lives overpowered every other emotion.

_SHIT! Batman! Vic! No!_

His metabolism _shifted.  
_

* * *

The Caretaker behind him hesitated as the emotions poured from the speedster. He spent a millisecond to take stock.

_Devotion. Hostility. Fear. What should...?_

_Batman. Question. A Martian shapeshifter was seeping in from the ground below Wally desiring to engulf him; Humans with slow weapons. Another Martian temporarily incapacitated...none an immediate threat. They were the ones he had wanted to reassure that everything would be okay.  That they need not worry._

_Dee--a risk factor already considered manageable._

_However..._

_There. Approaching from within the rift...  
_

_No. There. Was. No. Time!_

_WALLY!  
_

* * *

"Bats!" Wally shouted a warning out of habit even while half believing them to be fellow ghosts and thus bullet proof. "Vic!" He dropped down in the prelude of a sprinting run. Best plan would be grabbing both and taking them someplace safe like the portal in the Batcave. This time he'd personally shove them through to the safety of the other dimension.

Maybe shove them both into the Batmobile and then hurl them.  Three birds with one throw.

Suddenly it didn't matter if he and his friends were still alive or already dead via Dee's machinations because the guards---hell, everything but the Batmen, Question, himself, the Entity, and Dee---seemed to be slowing. Even the birds were becoming photo stills in the sky.

_The hell?_

Had he slipped into a different version of high speed perception?

Did it matter right now?

Moving on automatic, Wally ran forward, one hand rising to snatch two bullets out of the air, the other collecting their kinetic energy and wildly transferring that speed and some of his own to the intended targets so that the last bullets would miss Bruce and Vic.

_Stop the bullets; get them to Batman's place. Sort it all out from there.  
_

He was so concentrated on saving his friends that Wally didn't even notice the additional rip in the fabric of space-time happening behind him.

* * *

Nighthawk almost groaned as it struck:  something intangible yet with enough force to knock his breath away hit him in the solar plexus, pushing him back a foot just as a whistling pellet sailed by.

_A bullet? But it was moving too slow.  
_

Bruce's eyes widened behind his cowl at the sight of something else beginning to break into their reality through a portion of space that the storm alien was hastily recoiling away from. Not that Nighthawk blamed it. The new distortion was the opposite of the Entity:  something dark, malevolent, and impossible to get his eyes to totally focus on even as it's presence in reality grew. Nighthawk couldn't believe it. If this was what he thought it was...

_No, Barry had said it was just a theory....  
_

_A nightmare.  
_

* * *

"Dear gods!" Question's gasp was one of horrified fascination mixed with excitement. He dimly noticed that something odd had shoved at him just as as a small object ruffled his disguised hair, yet was more interested in the black shape solidifying behind Wally. He'd read ancient accounts about this supposed myth (swiped from Max Mercury's rooms--the guy's estate executor _really_ had needed better security.) To find the truth of it's existence was exhilarating because by all accounts this was impossible. It was supposed to be _invisible_ to everyone who wasn't attune to...

Speed.

Oh--hell!

"Flash, get out of here--NOW!"

* * *

Jabberwocky was at a loss as the macabre figure grinned in his love's direction. What the hell was _that_ supposed to be and whose grave had it crawled from?! He'd never seen or heard of anything like it before, but oddly enough it's shape seemed to have some sort of evilly twisted connection to...

"Wally?"

* * *

Nononono!

The Caretaker recoiled further from the other--darker one--as the nightmare of all speedsters became a solid humanoid to those with altered perceptions; but it didn't leave. In fact--after his first reaction of fear--the nebulous entity moved faster towards West, lightning tendrils reaching out to grasp the unaware man.

_-Wally Trust? Quickly!-_

Wally didn't even need to consider whether it was wise or not or that he didn't have so much as a name to go with the voice.

He just knew.

_"Yes. Emphatically, but..."  
_

_What about Luthor menacing his friends...who looked...terrified?  
_

Even as Wally had automatically began to think the 'yes' he felt the presence of something that made the little hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. He did trust the _angel_. But what was coming from behind him that was scaring everyone so? He started to turn his head, catching a glimpse of a coalescing black, leathery, humanoid yet animalistic with talon-tipped hands already almost on top of him.

A crackle of multi-branched lightning shaped like a cord wrapped around his chest. More lightning flared, emblazing their surroundings like a thousand halogen light bulbs as if to warn away the reaching darkness.

* * *

"Don't you dare!" Dr. Destiny growled before The Caretaker grabbed Wally West and both disappeared from sight. The hellish creature sent to take West swiped it's clawed arm impotently at where it's prey had been. Dee could only grimace in anger as the newcomer did not immediately give pursuit of said prey and its benefactor. Instead the creature lifted it's corpse-like body from where it had pounced just a microsecond before. It swiveled it's eyeless sockets towards the closest of the three speeding around it.

The Master of Dreams shuddered even though he knew it would not go after him. It was sure pissed though.

Unthinking, frustrated, the living nightmare centered on one unlucky soul and--

_\--struck._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter for Wayward Son.
> 
> To those reading the DC52 comics....Yes, I know that Keystone and Central are now referred to as The Gem Cities (possibly based on a nowscuttled Flash issue for 2012), but when Wally was Flash the authors always called them The Twin Cities. This is an old DCU fic that takes place after Crisis of Infinite Earths and before Flashpoint so...Twin Cities.
> 
> The Entity is sort of a cross between a compactified Calabi-yau and a brilliant nebula. If you google the name look for the dark picture with curled threads. Now picture that and a nebula combined. Actually, the dark picture is pretty good for picturing the last creature just before it solidified.
> 
> Last...why does the editor keep adding blank lines in the text?


	22. The Black Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to rather large cock-up with the editor, I've decided to go ahead and end part 1 here. (see chapter 23 for an explanation.)
> 
> Story will continue directly from this in the sequel: River of Dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the canon origin devised by Geoff Johns for the Black Flash makes a bit more logical sense, but there was something about the sheer mystery of the Black Flash first appearance (as created by Mark Waid) that was totally spell binding.  
> Waid's BF was seemingly more animal than man. Very creepy.  
> Far more creepy than a zombied Thawne Reverse Flash due to Blackest Night crossover tie-in books.
> 
> So I'm going with my first impression of The Black Flash as a supernatural creature/force of nature rather than John's undead zombie.  
> It's fanfic. I can do that. ;-)

.

[Current Time: The Flash Museum plaza/ Central City, MidWestern USA]

_._

_'Oh shi--!'_ was all Jabberwocky had time to think before the talons touched him--just a brush of black against grey.  Lightning crackled around his body.

Lord Batman screamed.

_Disappeared._

 

Batman--in one instant made the only Batman left on his Earth--slowly backed up as the creature sniffed the air around it.  He'd mourn his other self later...if at all.  Right now he had bigger concerns.

Like not dying as well.

The macabre death dealer brushed a claw against the mockery of Flash's uniform that encased most of its diseased form.  Red lightning and dark matter danced around the scarlet symbol only to be sucked back inside.  It shifted it's deceptively gangling limbs in order to move in a tight circle as it searched the space around it.

Looking for Jabberwocky's body?

No...not him; not it's true prey.

_Searching for West._

 

"It's The Black Flash," he heard Vic breathe out in admiration. To Bruce's consternation The Question stepped closer to the monster, searching his pockets for and retrieving a pad and pen.

Planning to interview it?  Surely even Sage was not that crazy.  Then again, if legend were true, then it should ignore them unless they provoked it.

It immediately centered on Vic's location as if studying him.

Coincidence?

Vic had better hope so.

What the hell did Sage think he was doing---going to ask for an interview? Bruce always knew the man was not quite right in the head; this rather confirmed it.

Batman again gave most of his attention to the monster, noting how John Dee was also watching it closely--but keeping his distance. Had Doctor Destiny been expecting this thing to appear? It seemed so...and it was clear that he was treating it with a wary respect. Next to him, Lex Luthor and the guards were facing towards the League members--ignoring the creature that had appeared in their midst. Did they not see it? How could they _fail_ to see it?

Sage froze (having finally gotten a sense of self preservation to trump his curiosity) and the Black Flash went back to searching the area where Wally had been.

 

The Black Flash....a clearly not-so mythical harbinger of death to speedsters.

Years ago before his death, Bruce had been on friendly rival terms with Barry Allen--the second man to bear the title of The Flash and the uncle-by-marriage to one Wally West. Barry had been hashing over his own discussions with a native speedster of another Earth---a fellow scientist who had also taken the title of The Flash: Jay Garrick. Garrick had made an eccentric friend in yet another ancient speedster named Max Mercury. Mercury had once been an a scout in the American Wild West. A Native American medicine man supposedly had endowed Mercury with super speed with some sort of tribal magic. It was Mercury who insisted there was a manifestation of Death that appeared to all speedsters when it was time for them to die. This Black Flash took the form---albeit a twisted version---of the speedster it was after....a cadaverous nightmare likeness of his prey. Bruce conjectured this image was meant to stun the victim into easy submission. Not that it needed to do so. It was reputed to be so fast that no one could escape it and all it needed to do was touch you. At least, this was all according to the tale of Max Mercury. Jay had believed him, but Barry had not. Understandably, the very down-to-earth Barry had considered the tale superstition.

Dark as coal, mummified skin, grinning teeth, and sinewy, elongated and animal jointed hind limbs...the thing before Bruce was wearing an ominous black and red version of Wally's uniform--all of which told him that in this case Allen had been severely mistaken...and not only on it's existence.

It is a pity Barry is no longer around so that I could rib the man to his face.

A guantleted hand reached for his belt.

_Would gas work on it?  Or something explosive?_

The Black Flash stopped his shifting...it's macabre head now aimed right at him. Wayne's eyes narrowed behind his Batman cowl as he purposefully moved his right foot a quarter inch to the side. The creature's head minutely twitched as it followed his boot.

_Then again, I may be able to discuss this with Barry after all...and very soon._

_Will I see mom an dad?  
_

_Will they be proud of me?  
_

Bruce could have kicked himself for being so stupid as to have initially overlooked something of major importance:  The creature's reactions to their movements were not coincidence at all and he had a good idea why.

This speedster grim reaper may have initially come seeking to grab the soul of Wally West; however, it had just taken Jabberwocky--a decidedly very human, _non_ -speedster and the alter-universe version of Bruce Wayne.

Now the monster was stalking Jabberwocky's twin.

* * *

 

 

_._  
 _Hello, darkness, my old friend_  
 _I've come to talk with you again_  
 _Because a vision softly creeping_  
 _Left its seeds while I was sleeping_  
 _And the vision_  
 _That was planted in my brain_  
 _Still remains_  
 _Within the sound of silence._

  
_In restless dreams I walked alone_  
 _Narrow streets of cobblestone_  
 _Beneath the halo of a street lamp_  
 _I turned my collar to the cold and damp_  
 _When my eyes were stabbed_  
 _By the flash of a neon light_  
 _That split the night_  
 _And touched the sound of silence._

  
_And in the naked light I saw_  
 _Ten thousand people, maybe more_  
 _People talking without speaking_  
 _People hearing without listening_  
 _People writing songs that voices never share..._  
 _And no one dare_  
 _Disturb the sound of silence._

  
_"Fools," said I, "you do not know_  
 _Silence like a cancer grows."_  
 _"Hear my words that I might teach you,_  
 _Take my arms that I might reach you."_  
 _But my words like silent raindrops fell,_  
 _And echoed in the wells of silence._

  
_And the people bowed and prayed_  
 _To the neon god they made._  
 _And the sign flashed out its warning_  
 _In the words that it was forming._  
 _And the signs said: "The words of the prophets_  
 _Are written on the subway walls_  
 _And tenement halls,_  
 _And whisper'd in the sound of silence."_

  
_~~lyrics: Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel_

_._

 


	23. Well that all went to hell at the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the counter number it may be that this apology only applies to three people.  
> I'm not sure though. Can't tell just when the catastrophe started.

Yeah.  
I was doing fine until somehow and quite unknowingly I posted chapter 22 without meaning to. REALLY not meaning to.

If you saw end notes on 22.....I am terribly sorry. You got spoiled.

If you saw more than Bruce and and Vic being menaced by The Black Flash....I am terribly sorry. You got spoiled.

I'm also terribly sorry AO3 has yet to have a Revert Chapter To Draft button for quick saves that do no entail the loss of a whole painstakingly written down chapter or in this case more than one.  
I'm even more terribly sorry that my rush to delete 90% of what was on 22 means I have to hunt down my old .txt copy on another computer. Converting old .txt to Rich text with italics is time consuming.

**At any rate.....the sequel to Wayward Son is coming up: River of Dreams.**  
I'll try to get something of chapter one up today...but am now feeling frazzled.


End file.
